You untamable creature. How the world is but a vast sea of knowledge waiting for you to drink in. From your lips come forth articulate words of archaic days long forgotten. Your body speaks of history one can not find within any leather bound tome, for your tale is spoken in whispers in the dark and made into memory during daylight. You are wild flower not planted by the hands of man, but grown in the wild, where you are free to bloom beyond the borders of what any garden offers.
Of your dark skin the sun has tasted, to your hair she planted kisses, and under her embrace you were made to be this child of warmth and brilliance. Finally, beyond the bounty of your chest, a heart has broken from its binding of poisonous thorns to pump life within anew. Your hands build lives, constructs dreams, and with a mere breath they can destroy civilizations from their foundations, causing the infrastructure of aspirations to crumble at your feet.
Lovely monster wrapped delicately in cashmere and soft lips painted with the blood of those who wrong you. How beautiful despair can seem when you’re its puppeteer. Ah but the greatest sin is found in your eyes, how tranquil, and yet blistering bright, like the dawn splintering away the dusk. You give birth to the sunrise, beautiful and setting everything aflame under its glow.
Yet, the dark of night I see as others are blinded by your light. And in this darkness I seek you.