Azure Eyes

Shifty, icy blue eyes still haunt my sober conscience.

His masculine silhouette outlined in my doorway,

In our frequent bar visits.

He was the tough guy,

His body was in more fights than in love.

His sharp features symbolized violence and bloodshed.

His jawline etched out of stone.

His broad shoulders,

Complementing his biceps.

A specimen,

Of anger incarnate.

His psyche possessing extreme opinions,

About inconsequential actions.

Bar fights being a viable alternative,

To civil conflict.

Action proved to be his middle name,

Maybe that’s why I was so enamored by him.

I was a peace maker,

Doing anything to avoid conflict.

My neutrality in stark contrast to his diabolical mind.

I waited until nightfall to kiss him for the first time.

The night absorbed secrets,

Like a thick blanket over blood.

I was whisked away by the intrigue.

I promptly left the life I knew.

I put my head out of the car.

In his passenger seat and with blurry vision,

I took a long drag of my cigarette…

Who needed safe anyway?

We drove to our local bar.

I still remember his icy blue eyes…

They still haunt me.