Girl with Grey Eyes

There’s a speck of a boat pricks the horizon;
overhead, the smoky breath of a jet – by now
miles away, and I think of you, yet can’t recall
your face, except, the grey-blue ocean is the colour
of your eyes, and I see them now; at their very core,
the blackest of things silver, I stand – mirrored, at the edge
of a rugged cliff, arms outstretched, as if to take one last breath –
throw reason to the wind, and fly... to wherever that place was you went
and went.