Brown

I look into you and see the old boots that you stick into your closet for safe keeping, for whenever you decide that running away from home is better than fighting it.
I look into you and see the footprints on my floor after you come home from walking while it was raining.
I look into you and see your wet hair from when we had shared kisses locked in the shower together.
I look into you and see the light complexion of your skin pressed tightly against my sheets, as you try to erase bad memories with better dreams of tomorrow.
I look into you and see my hair, draped over your chest after a marathon of nothing but us, together, creating something that people compare to love.
I look into you and see the color of the blanket we share, soaked with the dirt of my mouth after a long day and nothing good can be said when both of us have been begging each other for change.
I looked into you and saw your eyes for the first time, not looking at me, but looking past me.