Eyes. . . Scarlet

Black. . . is the color of my day. . . it envelops me like the waters cover the sea. Like the overcast sky in an evening so stormy.

Black is the color of his eyes. . . scarlet black. Dark, deep and heavy. Eyes that look down upon me, seeing nothing but a stranger's identity. His icy stare leaves nothing but shivers down my spine. Nothing. . . but the discomfort of his look.

Yet, it was not long ago, when those eyes emitted the warmth of love every time our eyes met. The look of familiarity and knowledge of the person in me. The comfort it brought in my heart so tenderly.

How ironic life can be.

Black. . . is the color of my day. . . pitch black. . . as I mourn for your death. Until my love for you and your memories are buried. . . black. . . is the color of my day.

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Author's Notes:

I wrote this article on May 17, 1996 a day after my then boyfriend broke up with me. This article made its way in the Features Column of the Engineering Newsletter of PLM.