His eyes are dark
brown and deep
warm and kind
yet troubled with sleep.
I know beneath their glossy surface
He is hiding secrets.
Secrets that keep him up at night.
I see it in his eyes;
A tornado of broken thoughts,
I want to know them,
to put the pieces back together,
to solve the mystery that is him.
But beyond the hurt that clouds his eyes,
I see warmth, golden suns
that ignite the brown depths.
The warmth is not just in his eyes
it is all over his face, spreading
like a warm breeze in winter.