mildreflections:

My fingers trace the contours of your face,

There is an uncanny familiarity.

I have long stared out at the night sky,

And wondered if anything could be so pretty.

It is strange how name forges skin,

Some would say it’s destiny.

I have long spent time finding meaning,

Behind such brilliant anomalies.

It is sad beauty never sees itself,

The night doesn’t know and neither do you.

How the moon forms in your smile,

And the stars sparkle in your eyes.

How every blemish on your skin,

Is like a foamy cloud that gives the sky substance.

You are what I have always lost myself into,

But in a form I can hold.

My fingers can finally trace the light,

And know the true warmth

Of a starry night.

                               –  Mild Reflections