Love is someone kissing your forehead goodnight,
as your room is on fire.
But still falling into their sweet bliss.
Love is creating a trap,
and someone melting into it with ease.



Maybe I was foolish
for falling into your trap,
but to me, I was the sinister black sky
draped over our head;
you were the little fairy lights,
scattered around,
like paint on a canvas.
And I wanted nothing more 
than to reach into that pool of shimmering darkness
and stare at its mesmerizing contents
from the palms of my hands.


When your hands danced on mine
you sent waves through my veins.
They crashed onto rocks
and into swaying ships.
When your lips dissolved on mine
I saw centuries of maps
of your blue divine.
Your beauty was a siren;
my mind a ship's crew.