Innocence and luster,
Starlight evenings spent over sapphire-light,
To feel so vulnerable, if human, is too easy a task with fabled connection.

Numb this avalanche of echoed virtues and marshmallow dreams,
Leave a slow wish that a tortoise might uphold for 100 years more,
Leading the flow of empathetic exchange to graze purple mountains,
Collapsing entirely to turquoise streams with tears across our forgotten faces.

Elegant necklaces of azure-tinted mist litter our fictitious musings,
These places of unimaginable distance and scale too well known,
Producing what could be a dew of anticipation and mystery too delicate to engage.

Shower our fated fictional meeting with the evening gloss,
One to die with the leaf that touches the ground last at autumn’s end.
Princess Luna release my heart, I do not wish to know this loss,
Vermouth, a name given to the color stained upon what cannot transpire.