Golden Eyes

“You have Golden Eyes”

they say. Golden Eyes

beneath the Southwest Sun

kissing your tanned skin

with its yellowed rays of light.

Your eyes are Golden

when you’re here.

like the orange cream sky with

the marshmallow clouds

melting on the horizon of your city.

Golden

like the sky right before nightfall

freckled with the last glimpses of the sun.

“You have Golden Eyes”

they would say, there.

But, here,

Your eyes are dark.

The Golden is a

Deep Purple.

Like the sky in the desert after

a storm.

The calmness that has seen

a hurricane.

Clouded with

the debris blown around from the wind.

“You don’t belong with us,”

They said, wanting sunshine again.

Because

Your Golden Eyes

are Clouded Purple now.