You found heaven for me.
The gates concealed as they were, to my existence until the point of you in revelation.
Now, sight itself wears me in its vernacular, and wonder wrapping the formless to every shape and size to my cognition.
You put me together as if strewn prior to your perception.
The sheen unravels for me a light I knew not to seek out, besmirched as I in own lofty suppositions.
Astound is indeed an easy consort to your appropriation.
This starlit path, as it were, like a birdsong harmonising to a beacon to lend an air. Stardust weaving a glimmering trail of hums elevating in echoes of easing continuums.
The communion of form upon your insight, the dazzle reflecting the sudden burst of peeling joy to existential might. To channel yet the currents that would replete the streams of your aspiration to the consciousness of derived notions. That which you grace.
Whispers of love to your very trace.
Like following the senses to their elation, and find there healed the very fabric in exhilaration. As with the breath inspired in your safekeeping. Gently holding up the world beyond purview, where the mere emotion of you makes a clearing.
Insofar endearing and nearing. Lighting up my universe through your eyes.
You found heaven for me, you beside.
