I don't know
Who I am without her
She is gone since years
And I still haven't found myself

Her hair is black and long, I don't think she has ever cut it. Her brown skin is glowing in the light of the sun, her eyes are closed.
I wonder what she thinks about.
Does she think about me? About us?

She opens her eyes and looks at me, I hand her a cigarett and she smiles.
Her eyes have a beautiful brown tone, and they look like they are dancing everytime she looks in the sun.
"I don't understand why you hate your eyes so much. Just because they aren't green or blue? Or because nobody writes poems about brown eyes? I don't know if you noticed, but the most poems about green eyes are boring. They say something about the grass and trees, how they remind them of hope. And poems about blue eyes are always about the ocean or the sky. About how wide they are and how 'mystical'. Your eyes are beautiful. They dance everytime you look at the sun. It looks more magical than blue or green eyes could ever look like.", I began to shake; it was pretty cold, "but you don't see this. All you see is that your eyes are brown and not blue or green. You don't see the power in your eyes"
Kaya looks at me and smiles, I know I shouldn't have said this, but she needs to know.
"I would write you a poem about brown eyes everyday, if it makes you happy", I whisper.
She gives me a kiss on my cheek and takes my hand.
"You never talk this much, unless it's important. Is it really that important that I like my eyes?", she asks
"Yes, it is. Where are we going?"
"Whereever we want, Darling"