Beloved, to describe what is before me,
Would perhaps offer me,
What to me, craves the plenty –
The multiple aspects to your beauty.
And as I sit before you, and before my gaze,
Towards your marvelous captivity,
You show to moon and star,
A gaze full of idle awakening
To what thumps a rhythm in your golden heart,
Broken away, are those fragments you’ve held dear,
Held close, now, are traces of incredible fear.
Where will you wander under these many streams,
Of tulip petals and bluish tears
That swim a current down to your wronged heart?