You have to imagine a color darker
than black, swirls without movement,
reflections of alien landscapes
beyond human conception,

and all in glorious stereo – two sultry eyes,
two things like eyes, perfectly round,
unadorned by lash, lid or pupil,
taking in who knows what,

two tantalizing ripe cherries
waving at the ends of twin tendrils,
juicy and inviting and seriously toxic.

You could, if you chose, further imagine
yourself drowning in those eyes,
assuming your body were dense enough
to break their viscous surface.

Those eyes, those mysterious orbs,
I fell in love with those breathtaking eyes –
but in the end I married her
for her many-suckered tentacles.