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Anonymous Man
Who is this man? I do not know him, but he is beautiful. His hair is as dark as the moonless night, covering his head in soft, tousled curls. He has black, arched eyebrows, which give him an air of intelligence. A strong nose and jaw makes him look down-to-earth. His cheekbones are high, hinting at Native American ancestry. His tanned skin is like silk, without a mark or blemish. Some unknown humor quirks his curved lips into an adorably crooked grin.
It is his eyes that capture me. They are the most peculiar color, a deep violet, like liquid amethysts. Framed by long, thick, dark lashes, they draw me in until I am drowning in them. They are a thousand years old, though he is obviously not even close to that age. His solemn eyes show me sadness, disaster, and hardships, but also recognition, happiness, and hope. Who is this man? I do not know him, but I have a feeling I will.
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