The outline of a figure too true to know
takes seat 'cross the matchstick table we share.
The moment ceases, all time sits unsown;
deepness gathers in her blossoming stare.
Your eyes, two pools of jewel encrusted light
sat amidst shim'ring crystalline jungle,
speak of hours lost divinating slight
changes, amazing observer of sigil.
To lose all time, a feat not hard done,
when lost in space of thing so absolute
in being, seeing beauty so weaves stun,
lost for words or thoughts this poet "astute".
To be honest, your looks shattered Troy's great walls,
But your intellect? wheeeew That gave God blue *****.