You are the chiaroscuro in my serene abyss,
A chiarent flame in a world amiss.
My spirit, once fractured, now coalesced
In the sanctum of your phosphorescent breast.
Your gaze is an elegy sung without grief,
A seraphic cipher, exquisitely brief.
You speak — and syntax surrenders to hush,
Even Time forgets its temporal rush.
You are the liminal hymn between breath and prayer,
A quiet cataclysm, divinely rare.
Your presence — a palimpsest etched in light,
Where galaxies kiss and shadows ignite.
Each touch from you, a velvet oblation,
An astral rite of sweet conflagration.
You are not merely dream, nor flesh, nor flame,
But the archetype all beauty became.
So take me — entire — thought, marrow, skin,
For you are the genesis I hold within
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem