amore

The night crept in thievish impetus and my eyes held upon the porcelain terrain of perfection, eyes of brilliant hazel reflecting my watchful eyes. The crest of your smile in thick silence was like a beacon of hope, of the future. My heart revels in it’s glow and purity. In silent veneration my mind held aloft the prospect of union, with one which I can trust, and such a thing frightens me still. Perhaps simple untampered excitement taken from me so long ago in the annals of my ignorant bliss. Aye that’s the root of it all.