i will miss the way the sunlight spills across your corneas
and i will long to steal your gaze in mine.
i have never found such a perfect set of irises,
nor have i found myself so devoted to
a mouth that never dared to tell of its love for me.
but, maybe my lips are enough for us both;
the constant pouty mountains of flesh which spill the soul's secrets ―
and only to you, no doubt.
you have been told enough secrets for a thousand novels
and yet i feel like i have not said enough of my love for you.
darling, i must leave you now,
and it is no choice of mine.
but i can assure you that my secrets will only be told to you
or they will be only of you.
for as long as the sun decides to rise and spill her light upon us,
you will find yourself to be in this heart of mine