Either way, it matters not

Your eyes might be beautiful,
but I wait to find
if that makes much difference

Your eyes might be beautiful,
but there are no colors that reflect
from intertwined shadows;
I don't see you in the light.
I don't see you at all.

You eyes might be beautiful
like Grecian marble
or onyx,
or any other variety of pleasing descriptors
that surely you've heard
a hundred times over.
I would say,
but I do not know.

You eyes might be beautiful
but I do not dare to take one glance,
I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea.

Your eyes might be beautiful,
the most beautiful!
Of ship-launching variety,
capable of wrecking an ancient society,
but I do not look on them
and they do not look on me.

Your eyes might be beautiful,
or empty fruits, rotting
from the inside
still maintaining a pristine
shell of skin,
tricking some poor creature
into thinking them a viable crop.

Your eyes might be beautiful,
and they might not.
And many things
may be lots of other things-
but I've never been one to place my bets
in the palm
or, should I say,
they eye
of uncertainty.

-J