her hair was the dark sky
splashing over the edges of her pillow;
waves of black velvet ink,
spilled by reckless writers
while writing their love story
all over the cotton sheets of paper

her laugh was the moon;
shining a path through the hours of their shared whispers
and comforting him, the weary night traveler
who no longer felt lost

her eyes were the stars;
so bright and breathtaking,
behind them hid so much mystery,
he wondered how she could see

he soaked in every moment
and wished for an endless night