Maybe her eyes are black,
colored the crumble of death and decay —
but the sky is also black, at night,
with infinite glittering diamonds of hot white light.
I think her eyes are colorless.
That's how she leaves the world.
All I can say is:
don't be jealous.
Not when I'm yours, and not hers,
not when it takes away my happiness
because my happiness takes away yours.