‘What’s there to love if not the enigma?’
They sung among crescent waves
Or might as well have.  
One moment in the skull,
One moment in the gut.

In a yellow shade, she glowed,
Luminary.
I knew her beauty,
It came onto me in a paroxysm,
An armada of destroyers.

Echo of you,
Fountainhead of this, all this.
I'd drink from cupped hands,
If there was water in the well.

This place that was perfect,
That could never be,
I saw in her, the same utopia,
A thousand miles from you,
So perfectly close just then.

I knew her beauty,
All of it yours,
Not all of it there.
Her lips, your lips,
Her smile; her own.