I do love you,
                         but you not me,
                         this pain is quite distressing.

Emotions rush,
                           my face will blush,
                           yet your eye's gaze is chilling.

I have no writ,
                           my heart's in fit,
                           I hope my soul's not dying.

I swear Spring came
with flowers along the ground
and among the trees,
all in the hope
to become a crown upon your head,
for no beauty could be as natural
as the one grown within you.

How I wish to fall into her dreams,
and land amongst them like satin sheets
as they pose like April clouds;
snowy towers in the sky.
Imagine all the wonders.
Her inner light has always been bright as the sun,
which is why her eyes always shine,
as if they paint,
                            "I love you"
between us in strokes of light.
Above all,
perhaps I'll meet myself,
and learn if I visit her dreams
as often as she inhabits mine.

Her walk told stories of places
I've never been,
but suddenly felt homesick for.

Entangle me like vines,
in the entrapping gaze of your verdant eyes.

Time spent with you falls moment after moment,
onto the fabric of my soul,
as tattoo ink is irrevocably embedded into skin.
Even in your absence,
your late night whispers can be read on my skin
in all the places your breath once touched,
as fingerprints show on fogged windows,
longing once more to be touched
by the hand of a celestial lover.