Hiding there secretly

In the shallows of my mind,

Whispering bitter nothings

That melt from my eyes;

The cloudy black ink,

With which he marks my skin,

Weaves frail crimson vines;

In my swollen eye rims,

He rebels to my balcony,

Every somber winter night,

His silence a strange warmth;

In a world ; numb ice

His tender breath soothes,

My snow-crusted flaws,

My glacial heart thaws as;

I gaze at him for hours,

I hide not from him

souvenirs - scars, scarlet wine,

For he too is a scar;

Sketched alone on the sky,

And only with the dawn,

His smile flickers with dismay,

He has to return the splendor;

He has rented from the day,

His glowing milky beauty,

Now a clumsy neutral grey,

As this velvet blue transpires;

Into a baby blue haze,

I veil behind the curtains;

Horizon dripping liquid gold,

He hides behind the clouds,

Letting the aureate charm unfold,

I trace his grieved goodbyes,

Inked in hues of orange gloom,

He signs them in constellations;

Yours forever ; your moon.