My Brown-eyed World

My happiness has brown eyes.
It's like living a simple life and getting that rare flashes of happiness: looking into dark eyes and seeing green spots and speckles on their irises. Unexpected, exciting and bright - you remember every second of it, every line... Every emerald dot.

My dreams have brown eyes.
They are warm and harmonious. Their dark colour takes in all the willingness, eagerness and a tiny splash of naughtiness. And it gets harder and harder to get out of their stuffy embrace...

My life has brown eyes.
I am deep inside, and there's no way out. It's like an engulfing whirlpool - faster and faster, farther and farther... Light reflects in its brown eyes and I see endless sparkles of gold - they dance around in a crazy ecstasy, growing to an enormous size and then suddenly explode vigorously in millions of golden drops that continue dancing and jingling...

My love has brown eyes.
Love is everything together - happiness, dreams and life. It is so different in every moment of its existence - fast, crazy and furious or warm, confident and soft.
Afraid to lose it - and ready for the next day with it.
Going mad with it - and whispering it something tender.
Lust and jealousy and trust and faith swashing at the bottom of dark eyes...Sinking in it and never wanting to resist.

I have brown eyes.
And I never take it serious when people insist that blue or green or grey eyes are more emotional or beautiful...They are cold, icy and vague.

There are no eyes more beautiful than brown eyes.
There is no world more brown-eyed than mine.