The Romantics of a Silly Person

and it's home.

You bring the light into a darkened scene with just one blink of an eye, you counteract.

Even though you're life seems dark, your soul beams bright like the stars in the evergrowing galaxies and that's a fact.
Your hair twinkles in flashing lights of blue, red, green and yellow as the sirens blast loud, cornered symphonies that highlight my dictionaries of words I keep just to describe you. You.

Your hair, your eyes, your light, the heat between your thighs. The evening moon makes them glimmer in night skies.
You bring me light.

Not even in the darkness can I not see you.

Your lips taste like sweet chilli, and your hands intertwine with mine making me intoxicated like the effects of cheap wine.

I brush back your hair, feel the light, whispy air as every other sound drowns out in the background.

Every part of my own overgrown lost properties fade like people I used to know as I look into your eyes, and it's home.