You.
Hazel eyes.
Midnight hair tumbling over your face, covering perfection with ebony grace.
I am yours to hold, to mold, by the fingertips.
Grasp me tenderly, don't let me go.
For without your star to guide the night, what am I but an aimless wanderer lost in the city lights?
My muse.
Inspiration bursts forth from your thoughtless actions, little things, insignificant, my world is full of poetry.
Midnight hair tumbling over your face, covering perfection with ebony grace.
I am yours to hold, to mold, by the fingertips.
Grasp me tenderly, don't let me go.
For without your star to guide the night, what am I but an aimless wanderer lost in the city lights?
My muse.
Inspiration bursts forth from your thoughtless actions, little things, insignificant, my world is full of poetry.