They ask of me, your dark and lustrous eyes (A sonnet)
They ask of me, your dark and lustrous eyes,
“Why do you love me so, fair northern one?”
And then retreat where blackest silks are spun,
Each lash arranged to defend them from the skies,
Behind those moist and caramel canopies
Each sweet dark orb craves solely to delight
In feasting on the blue grey from which I’ve sight.
And now a trembling finger reaches out to raise
My lids to gaze within. At once my space,
My fortress, has been breached and you, by this pretence
Forced entry deep within my soul; thrown down my defence.
I imbibe your honeyed breath upon my face.
Dark skinned; dark eyed; deep liquid ebony and jet.
And I exalt in your dark and radiant beauty yet.
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