the great escape

you tell her that her
eyes look
pretty when she cries.
the wetness of tears
brings out the emerald
in them.
this does not please
her, so she cries even
harder. no really, you
tell her, trying to
gently pull her
hands from her face.
look up into the light
you say, those eyes
are beautiful, like
gems sparkling, washed
up by the sea.
really, she says,
wiping her nose with
her wrist.
sure, you tell her,
handing her a box
of Kleenex.
let me get that mirror
off the dresser and you
can see what I'm
talking about. you
bring it over as she
continues to sob,
her shoulders shaking.
look, look at those
eyes. good god they
are absolutely stunning.
liz taylor has nothing
on you baby.
she looks, trying to
catch her breath
as she begins to hiccup.
I guess they are kind
of nice, she says, moving
the mirror around.
I'm telling you those
eyes are amazing.
it is too bad about
your cat though,
let me get you some
water, honeybun.