As Eugene grew accustomed to the haze of smoke from cigars and cigarettes before his eyes, he saw a woman wearing a pair of gloves like vines crawling over her ivory arms, glowing under the kiss of the light. Red complexion, like a curious zoologist who first discovered pink in shells, he sank into this magnificent pink, her arm. But it was her eyes that really made his heart beat faster and he couldn't breathe. The blue, even through the smoke coiling over the pompous sofas and the languid cigarettes at his fingertips, he still recognized, as deep as the sea. In this sea, he is willing to indulge forever and not miss any of the colors. Through the trenches in the house, that blue, those eyes, that swallowed him and swept him away without stopping, he had never been so sure. From that moment, Eugene understood what the poems he had written over the years were about, and among all the lost, hesitant, and lonely souls, he was one more. He fell in love with someone, a love he could never have. Everything happened so fast that no one around him heard any sound, the sound of the wind as he fell, the shattering of his heart. There was peace all around, but his life had been torn apart.
Eugene saw a woman with blue eyes. Suddenly, he fell in love with her, so fast that no one around him noticed.
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