She looked at him with those eyes.
She had piercing eyes.
Eyes that could cut you in half.
Eyes that could melt you down to a puddle.
Eyes that wanted to know the truth.
Curious eyes.
They were deep blue.
They paired perfectly with her blonde hair.
They paired perfectly with her pale skin.
She was desire.
She was pain.
She was poison.
She was everything he wanted,
And everything he was missing.
She was cancer.
Giving him purpose,
And sucking him lifeless.
She looked at him
He looked back at her
And he quickly looked away.
His eyes were curious too,
But his lacked the viciousness that hers had.
She had told him once that he had ‘sleepy boy eyes’.
He always had dark half circles under his eyes,
She told him,
And that his eyelids hung low.
Not from lack of sleep or exhaustion
But from the pot.
He was usually a little high.
At the first sign of real emotion
his eyes would immediately water up.
The problem was,
he hardly felt real emotion anymore,
and has soon as he did,
he tried to hide it from everyone
and send the emotions back to the maze from which they came.
Her eyes made him feel everything.
He wasn't strong enough to look back into hers when she was vicious.
It was amusing to him when she would roll her eyes.
Always so dramatic.
Always full of her attitude.
He remembered being on top of her,
Making love.
Looking right into her eyes.
The pleasure.
The desire.
It was overwhelming.
He looked directly back at her in these moments.
He was expressing his affections for her with each gentle thrust into her.
She responded back with her eyes.
She responded back with her body.
She expressed fully.
All of her.
The eyes did not lie in these moments.
Her eyes rolled back into her head.
Her body let go.
Letting herself feel every ounce of pleasure that they had acquired together.
Afterward,
They laid there together.
Face to face
Holding each other
And looking into their eyes.
Laughing and sharing stories.
She lit a cigarette.
They split it in bed.
He knew it wouldn’t be like this in the morning.
He knew her soft eyes would turn icy some day.
Great things never last,
But that's why they are great.
After hours of sex,
Hours of conversation,
And hours of holding onto each other;
His eyelids started to feel heavy.
He had to let them close
But he fought against it.
As long as he could,
he wanted to experience this moment for as long as he could.
Then,
When he no longer could force himself to stay up with her,
His eyes shut,
And nothing was ever the same.
She faded away as if she was a dream he was trying hard to stay in.
But she faded,
And when he woke,
She was gone.
Forever.