Your beauty lies between sheets of dream,
On your eyelids have fallen the rough tears of stars,
There they have taken root like a magnificent oak.

With Every glance I give to you
A leaf falls into my palm;
They are chips of ivory and fire,
They are cut from the edges of glorious desire,
They melt upon my tongue like snowflakes.

Soft, soft, I raise my shaking hand to the memory of you
Long, long I dream of our afternoons
Solid and perfect.

And the image of your eyes
The colour, a Van Gogh blue,
Stolen from that starry night
with a transfer of wine,
sets my heart ablaze.

My curled lips have brushed the beauty of your celluloid shape,
The wind brought form to elegance as it caressed your hair
When the tide brought rhythm to your kiss.

Tonight's moon is a slipper where I will rest your heart,
There I will wrap it in silk and water it with silver streams
Until your beauty breaks through the starlit boundaries,
And as it grows into a magnificent oak,
I shall sit beneath the shade of its bows
With my palms anticipating the fall of a leaf.