This isn't on the side of funny (is, in fact, from my very private collection of writing from the closet) ...but feel free to poke away after -
They are the windows to the soul
Should they invite, step inside for a stroll…
Yes, it's an obsession. Since I was a child, I have been fascinated by eyes. I used to draw pictures of them and nothing else, striving for artistic perfection, which I'm not sure I ever accomplished but I strove nonetheless. With my dolls' eyes I would play, softly stroking them closed, watching them open again, blinking at me in response. I used to stare at my own eyes in the mirror for endless moments, willing them to change colors … I believe sometimes they did.
There are so many kinds of eyes…
Those with strength
Those with sorrow
Those that play
Those that will know no 'morrow
I have seen eyes that will forever beautifully haunt me…and those that I wish to always hate, but probably never will. I have seen dead eyes, lifeless and yet still full of stories that live.
Some eyes that are empty…void of any existence - I have seen these as well, and looking into them, have tried to will there to be some spark of life, some wish for more…staring into their emptiness with the desire to pour my own essence inside in order to fill them, make them beautiful and dance…but I stop, and just stare … respecting that this not my right, ultimately knowing perhaps there is a reason, not for me to know, nor to fix.
There are eyes that burn with the fire of lust, desire, passion, anger, jealousy, and the greatest of apathy. Eyes that focus with careful intensity when beautifully intrigued; eyes that shine, twinkle, glow…glaze…and slow.
Have you fallen into the depths of another's eyes? Been seared by their heat? Branded from the licking flames of their touch? ... I have, and it happens each time I close my own.
Alright, poke away! ....
Oh, forget to tell you...I currently have pink eye - enjoy your doctor's visit :-)