Upon me, and over me,
With blueish contrast from thy beaming eyes,
To the tresses that rock over thy neck,
Like a galleon that weens itself through,
The fine waves and random gulls.
Romance sprouts so evenly
From thy brimming shoulders, bared to be touched
By my rotting fingers.
You descend from the slope, from the mountain
With as much precision allotted to thee.
With a face true and whole,
Filled inside a heart, cold and cruel,
And I still love thee,
Although, you’ve become something else.
A boulder that falls from the highest precipice,
To a void, my heart,
To fill the gap, the hole,
And thou will descend,
With eyes facing downwards to where I kneel.
Like a mermaid and like a siren,
Thou calls to me, sings to me,
Until Heaven, and its angels show their envy.