For once, my room has good lighting.
It is not from the lamp that hangs from the ceiling, casting a yellow glow.
It is from the moonlight washing over you. Washing over me.
For once, I truly see you. You are so much more than the writer or the artist or the brilliant mind.
This night, I see the stardust in your bones.
I see you are more than the flesh and blood and teeth on the outside.
That beauty stops on the outside.
But my dear, you are beautiful, inside and out.
Your stardust is beautiful.
And for once, I see you.