I think you are
flawless
gentle ripples in the
stream of
Me,
rich with melody &
vibrancy
perfect untouched
harmony of
Us.

Yellow cornfields
hand in hand
unraveling the simple
sand of
Truth—
golden in magic,
yet cold.

the Crayola world so
bright & smudged
with paint the faintest shade of
Love
(still we wonder through
the dark—
where are we?)