Nighttime and the heart weaves silver, in the hopes of a sliver of a face caught in the crescent of a moon; hanging by the shadows under drops of stardust. Plopping onto grounds like a pearly bauble, dancing in prismatic hues of vibgyor shaded iridescence that are twin orbs trapping all that's glacial on the darkest side of our satellite.
Like frozen bits of all that could ever be loved, snipped into a globular depth of hidden darkness in oceanic secrets, left to wonder on its own learning to thrive in primordial seclusion of esoteric fondness.
Twin lights of blazing lighthouse concealed under throbbing facade of tight lipped brevity, strung up on a cupids brow, widening into a slaying stern of underhanded smile breaking down my Richter scales.
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