I had my daydreams,
my exhilarated sentiments as I
stood before the flawless soul;

Our story would’ve been written
after sunset,
before fluttering candlelight,
amongst the slow dance of shadows-

His sudden endearing simpers
akin to vibrancy in
pink tinted yoghurt kept in the
tight embrace of a glass cup;
delicate yet strong.

We’d be paper cranes – kept afloat
by the taut arms of a thin string
holding on with the strength of a tightly
tied knot; the closest we’d feel
to empyrean happiness.

A groggy gaze at the still night sky
separated by thin glass
and abruptly the constellations in the sky
are fathomable;
leaving the desire for sufficient courage
to profess my fondness for his unblemished,
endearing self.