Beautiful you,
    I love you, for

    all your finality, for
    your outrageous irony to the banal, for
    your desperate questions, for
    your sober answers, for
    not caring that we don’t hear them.

Beautiful you,
    the compass of those abandoned
    the comfort for all great burdens
    the compromise to every cost
    the combative reply to injustice
    the end of all roads and the igniter of passions.

Beautiful you,
    oft I yearn for you to ease yourself upon me
    take me in your arms and squeeze,
    like laughs upon a deep breath
    as eager for the contents as their release;
    but I will not plead, not again.

Beautiful you,
    be always out of reach
    the distant sun that has set
    the word bound in paradox
    heard but maligned and unspoken, until
    at last,
    I have earned you.