There's a dot,

In the middle of my eye.

Both of them match.

Black and mild.

Light too much.

Decrease in size.

Ready for plenty.

Increased surprise.

There is color.

Unique spiraling orb.

To match my mind.

To see what's in front of me.

Or imagine it to exist.

Be aware but not certain.

Or clear but not fully there.

My eyes are a pair.

Yet I've been blind,

Your face makes pupils shudder.

Imperfect eyes,

Shouldn't register a sight.

Your strength is my pupil.

Your color is my orb.

Clarity is my lens.

Need I say more?

You be my eyes.

And I'll be yours.

Apple of my eye.

Together, a duo

A pair.

Imperfect no more...