Yes, you look lovely when
Your eyes ignite like little stars, when
The light hits your face like that,
Tracing, delicately, each soft lineament,
Touching your lips; yes,
Light lends you its brilliance.
Yes, you look noble in the morning sun,
With the gold dancing across your
Brow and lingering at
The finest angles, the sweetest lines;
It kisses you, thus, an angel you become—
Light turns your blood divine.
But in the murky black, in that
Depth of night, you become something else;
They snake across your skin, those thick shadows,
Sensuous and ripe— you are transformed into
A being detached from your own self,
And the gloom into rhythms you transpose.
And I love you then, when dark’s
Ink stains your skin; and I love you
When the light makes you pure.
You embrace both worlds, don them like a cloak;
You wear them with ethereal allure.
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 9:25 AM UTC
Yes, you look lovely when
Your eyes ignite like little stars, when
The light hits your face like that,
Tracing, delicately, each soft lineament,
Touching your lips; yes,
Light lends you its brilliance.
Yes, you look noble in the morning sun,
With the gold dancing across your
Brow and lingering at
The finest angles, the sweetest lines;
It kisses you, thus, an angel you become—
Light turns your blood divine.
But in the murky black, in that
Depth of night, you become something else;
They snake across your skin, those thick shadows,
Sensuous and ripe— you are transformed into
A being detached from your own self,
And the gloom into rhythms you transpose.
And I love you then, when dark’s
Ink stains your skin; and I love you
When the light makes you pure.
You embrace both worlds, don them like a cloak;
You wear them with ethereal allure.
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