Smeared With Affection

Without any doubt
whatsoever ..
Your eyes, are my
spring my love
those that
somehow force me
to see beyond
the blues
and the greens ..
Yet while we are still
at the mercy
of such intimate liars
and fools ..
I swear I constantly
find myself
looking for colours ..
Indeed those,
that still live and do
thrive, someplace
else entirely ..
Pinned albeit
loosely, between
these poor
clouded, rose tinted
lenses of ours ..
And which still,
by the way
religiously haunt us ..
Although by
the time, we both
leave here
come morning ..
Our combined DNA
shall be strewn
with abandon
all over the place ..
Discarded,
dispensed with,
disposed of
then used to betray
us covertly ..
Until all becomes
still, calm and good again ..