He danced in light, son of the Wind,
And colored the minds below.
She was too deep, locked in herself,
But he still had inarticulately tried
To convey his longing in light.

When he asked the girl
What her name was, she replied,
"I am the Marianas Trench,"
And he blinked, smashing lashes
In a vain effort
To extract an answer not forthcoming.
She gazed blankly, concealing
Three million dying hopes
Faintly sparkling within her depths.
He bashfully cast his eyes
Downward to conceal his own
Inner turmoil.
"I am the Aurora Borealis,"
He finally yelped as his fingers drummed
Notes in the tension between them.
A light flickered across her
Black eyes, flitting to his own.
Quickly extinguished, it
Carried within it her slipped
Composure and raw yearning.
He drew breath, and the coronas
Of his eyes slid to meet hers,
Blank once more.
Before she could bolster
Her dwindling courage,
He was leaving, taking with
Him all her color.
"Don't!" She pleaded.
Her cheeks flushed magenta.
He blanched, his eyes dark.
But he was far from her,
Shrouded in light
That could never color
The stone walls she built.
Miles high, she hoped
They touched his sky someday.
Until then, she was hidden,
Sound, and he was brilliant, lost.