He has spring eyes. 

They are the simmering pale green of unripe grapes

Beckoning as two darting vipers,

Bright and sharp like holly vines,

They have all the untrustworthiness of new growth. 

His eyes are blistering bay leaves and mischievous ivy, 

Gleeful as hemlock buds and. 

They are harmless as sour grape wine and 

Swamps of sleeping alligators,

Bewitching as sundew, dangerous as emeralds. 

The boy with spring eyes is one who 

Befriends and betrays with the same vivacity, 

He would kiss as soon as kill with that venomous smile. 

Yet his spring eyes are beckoning—

They are sweetly inviting; two delicate belladonna blossoms, 

Warm as peppermint with a pleasant menthol burn. 

His tongue is viper-quick, 

his wit razor-edged and his laugh raucously infectious; 

Those green eyes blaze with jasmine leaves as he 

Entrances and repulses you in the same moment. 

His eyes hold a slightly mad light— 

Sharp as a fern, teetering like hemp on the 

Sweet corner of sanity. 

He is reassuring as the scent of crumpled leaves and 

Welcoming as a sliced blade of grass, bleeding its 

acrid perfume to the world above. 

He is charming as dandelion weeds and just as harmless, 

Choking his neighbor flowers with pearly-green innocence. 

The spring-eyed boy is one with all the deadly charm of a forest. 

He is crocodile-sweet, demure as a cactus, 

Yet his smile is aloe vera, his words mint honey as he 

Coaxes you into wildfire friendship. 

He is vivid and delicious, this jewel-mantis, 

And his relationships are just as mad-cap and exciting as he. 

He will leave you breathless with laughter and 

coughing on the fumes of his toxins.

 His acid-bright eyes hold allure and demand, like sundew,

And he will peel your heart like a grape and shriek with glee as you 

Deteriorate into green diamonds, 

grinning back at him all the while. 

He is rare and unforgettable, a prize burning emerald, 

Convinced of his mastery of the world, yet incomprehensibly lonely. 

Behind his shark-green smile lurks an evergreen well of loneliness, 

Piercing as the rose thorns he wears as a crown. 

He is convinced of his superiority, a king clad in serpentine. 

Yet he is instead 

a single leaf on a dry branch, destined to be 

forever alone, surrounded by the 

lime smoke of bridges he burns. 

So he is doomed, a 

self-fulfilling peridot prophecy: 

The spring-eyed boy.