Unmasked Eyes

Eyes. Eyes everywhere. I find them buried in wrinkles, framed by lashes, cradled by brows and cheeks. I have found that I see your eyes, my eyes, eyes I never noticed before. I see them peering shyly from curling locks of hair and boldly meeting mine from straight wisps. I never knew how many shades of blue and brown and green could mix with gray and gold. Blue as ice and then blue as the deeps. Chocolate eyes, so black they soak in the shadows and then glow in the sun. Gray eyes, I once ignored thinking they were too plain, now show me the streamers of ghosts and shadow shades shifting through their iris with each blink. Hazel is the name for the eyes that defy categorization. I see blue with blossoms of green and then green with whorls of brown. Gray with cheeky spots of amber and wood deep brown with mossy green patches. There are so many combinations and each of them are startling and beautiful. I see how the brows make them smile: they pull away from the middle and raise just a little. Such a tiny movement brightens and lifts in a way I never noticed before. A crown of concern brings them in and down, close and unsure. Anger sits high and still, it hardens and billows forth to batter us to feel what they feel. Desire is warm and sharp, it glows and flashes forth, unmistakable in our rainbowed irises. Freckles and age spots and birthmarks abound, screaming and shouting without a sound… I did not know how much I used to look down, avoiding the gazes, and running around.

So much division, so much dispute… 

I look for your eyes. I am again becoming human and I see you, I feel your soul through my windows. If all you have learned is a hate of masks, you have learned nothing at all. 

So much was missed to my surprise…

And I can see it now that I listen to your eyes.