Devour(ed) | Poems that Suck

I wanted to paint
 a picture of your
   eyes,
     see. 

One that captured
 all the deep blue
  and the light blue
   fibers of your
     iris. 

I wanted to
 paint your pupil
  huge,
   you know, 
    like a quarter, 
     or a moon, 
       or a god-damn Buick. 

Swollen, like when
 you would whisper
  you loved me and I
   thought I could tell
    you weren't lying. 

Engorged, so large
 I could see myself
  in them and I was a 
   different
     person, 
      content with the mundane. 

Those pupils would
 swallow me, 
  devour me
   whole; 
    flesh, 
      bones.
       Everything.

And then you blinked.