My man...
He was the light to my caravan,
The sweetness in my beats of plums,
The story behind each sudden smile,
His fingers spoke to my skin in hums.

He was something—
Like the comet,
I never searched for in the skies,
For in my world, he already hovered—
Glowing just behind my eyes.

I never needed mirrors
When his gaze reflected me whole.
He made my silence sound like music,
He stitched warmth into my soul.

His presence—
Like chandeliers in an old ballroom,
He twirled into my dreams,
Filling corners I didn’t know were vacant,
Like poetry brushing through moonbeams.

And when I think of him...
I picture the way he’d push back his hair
When the rude wind stole his view.
I wonder what his laugh would do to walls—
And if he’d paint them his favorite blue.

My man...

I loved a man who doesn’t exist.
But oh—how beautifully he lived,
In the gentle kingdom of my wish.