Blue are the color I wanted for your eye.
Yet your eyes are colorless, I don’t know why?
Your eyes tell me so little of your mystery;
So little of what I yearn to know about you and me.
I’ve known your colorless eyes’ mood.
I can’t judge what I can’t see and is nude.
Can you tell me what your eyes tell?
Are they in pain or joy, or well?
Perhaps they have pain, so visible.
Suffering comes to mind, your eyes, sensible.
I have a way to discover and share;
And that is to become your eyes’ tear!
Eyes that have wandered.
Eyes that have strayed.
Those eyes of yours, colorless not blue;
As if their tear made of dew…