My sight spans galaxies,
from olden trees to incomparable complexities.
What is and isn’t meant to be
can be defined be defined as an inner woven triviality.
From this place we’ve found outside,
I can see my reflection in your eyes.
We as two travelers on a given road,
escape the rain, into a field of what we reaped and sowed.
Our oaths to each other, still fresh in memory,
tell me of everything that will come to be.
We combine our voices into a harmonious tranquility.


My eyes drift to your palms,
and fix upon a lost psalm,
left to consign to oblivion.
This psalm when opened, speaks of your eyes;
two rings of Saturn rotate about your iris,
a flood of cosmic ashes paint the body of your hair.
I feel your aura, and see the light dance upon your skin,
as we sit under a tree, with mouths full of cinnamon.


The taste of this moment forever lingers,
and time seems frozen in the space between our fingers.
The emotion drips from my lips from my lips and my eyes,
as the rain continues to fall from the skies.
My heart has always been upon my arm,
and yours has always been upon your face.
So let down your hair and pocket the lace.
Let the skies fall dark and relight with starry wonder.
Let us see the world as perfection and blunder.
We shall enjoy our time, and its entire splendor.
Can you feel the emotion your being can render?
If by God’s will you were sent here to me,
then God’s will be done.
I wish never to neglect you, I love you.