You speak for where you sleep,
The world gusts off your lips,
A kiss, I’d not, for where you heave
Is sure for life to then slip.
To that sun of hardly height
To wake your prettied eyes,
I’d not move for fear of fright
You’d come to, in bitter cries.
A drop of radiance to your cheeks
Wandered from the window, ajar
As intrusion to where it leaks
From this view, pale from afar.
Given grace from sun to boldness,
Still your features run with heaven
To nothing for mark of coldness
In all for the love that is given.