Jonathon's eyes.

The first time I looked into them, they were blue. crysalline and pure. The clearest lake I've ever seen.

I almost fell in

The second time I looked at them, they had hints of green in them. Like spring. The first brave shoots of grass grow up through patches of ice and snow.

Sometimes I fancy they are purple. When we joke, and truth comes in. When some one says something a little too close to home. When you compliment him. He smiles and looks at you. He then looks away. Sometimes he'll pull his hooded sweatshirt down over his face to hide his eyes. That's when they are purple.

They are strong. I freaked out and couldn't handle being in school anymore. He looked me in the eye and talked me down from my ledge.

They are soft. When he teases or plays a game.

They glow. With happiness. With thunder. When he's screaming a perfect sonnet on the top of his lungs. When he's giggling.

When he's drunk and dancing.

They astound me.