Her soft mocha skin, where glaciers slide,
her eyes with galaxies and nebulas within,
and her fingers orchestrating this heart of mine.

Her breaths like breezes adorn my rusty palace of tin,
her semblance, a canvas embedded with bubbly art fine.
The mountains and oceans are nothing but petty bumps and puddles compared to her,
for she is above all and everything,
seraphic deity, celestial delicacy,
a lady of unmatched beauty,
a girl with diamonds in her hair,
a lass with sempiternal dusk in her stare,
a fox with such tempting snares,
The only Queen to rule over my heart.

Her voice melts in my ears,
and echoes in my vessels forever.
My throat burns up with words,
words wanting to line themselves in front of her eyes.

You shall hear my pleas through the dusty winds and chirpy birds,
through shimmering leaves and crackling fires,
through chiming icicles and the clearest crystals.

For I have spoken, and I have spoken enough,
I would rather you look than hear,
for you see dear one,
we share the same sky and stars,
the same sun and moon,
that like mirrors shall reflect us from one place to another,
and I wish to see your likeness through them forever,
so cherish these few things we have in common,
for the differences are endless, and my dried up heart,
now lifeless.