We see our own beauty in the eyes we behold.
Michael VII has blue eyes; not your standard baby blues. No, Michael VII’s eyes are similar to a gold prospectors pan; blue slate with hints of sapphire and platinum.
In his eyes are reflections of his heart: dark rubies set in a field of crocuses. They’re the kind of eyes kittens curl up in to nap.
Eyes so blue that the oceans envy their depth, purity, and color. Neptune himself weeps.
But it’s in Michael VII’s eyes I find myself. I have discovered truth and courage in them; I have found peace and life in them; and each day they show me his clarity and humility.
Each day when I kiss the softness of his lids, it’s like I’m tasting heaven. Sweet, sweet eyes.