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Green eyes revised


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My eyes are not innocent.
Green fire flecked with gold, framed by dark black hair—
soft enough to tempt you closer,
dangerous enough to leave you trembling.

I’ll look at you like I’m fragile,
my sweet voice soft, my touch gentle,
but beneath that sweetness is hunger,
a quiet storm waiting to ruin your control.

My eyes don’t just watch you,
they unravel you.
They make you ache,
make you chase,
make you beg for another glance.

And once you’ve felt them,
you’ll never recover—
because I’m a contradiction:
soft skin and sharp edges,
a tender voice that promises mercy
while my gaze whispers obsession.

Men don’t fall for me just because I’m beautiful.
They fall because I make them believe
I’ll worship them with my softness
even as I destroy them with my fire.
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