Thou art my sky. The thing that is cognated to heaven and everything celestial. All of my whispers through the falling comets appear’d to be true as thou fill’d the spaces between my fingers. Look, I bled myriad times before, and I have undergone several lamentations which prompt’d my eyes to lose their sparkle. Yet as I found thee, thou brought them back into their initial luminous temperament. And when thou kiss’d my lips and curved a smile, I perceived there was forsooth a realm for me in this vast universe. A realm wherein chaos does not reign supreme. Wherein the turmoil is still lovely. Wherein the nights are less gloomy. When being solitary because of poignant days is not the case. Where love is real and genuine. Withal, I feel as though I have everything I ever need’d because I have thee. Thou art a place with doors open and quiet walls that I can call home. In thine embrace, therein clings tranquility.

O’ my love, regardless of labyrinths I shall mislay myself in, thou wilt invariably be my perpetual haven.