I polished the stars for you.
Now, it's time to polish your shoes.

January came, she kissed my cheek
Under the moon, filled with mystique
Late of the season, I braided her hair
In the light of dusk, I embraced her there
And when midnight came, I named the stars
Twinkling after her in the latest of hours
Hundreds of billions-little lights in the skies
Each one reflecting her incandescent eyes
Roses are maroon; violets are grey
Enchantment is purple; though sounding cliche
She acts like summer and walks like rain
Excellent and exquisite; an elegant arcane
Long after August and the months of -ber
Unraveled whatsoever lies inside of her
Carving a smile across her face
I waited until November days
Next I held her hands--soft and warm
Quiescence overcame my repugnant form
Unctuous--for times I was
It's what she can and what she has
Not but only gleaming little lights
Inside her yet also morose little frights
Come December and January again
Oh I kissed her cheeks and then
That... was it