In the ever-flowing stream of boundless passion's art,
My soul's a canvas, painted with emotions that never depart.

Blue, the hue of your soul's delicate grace,
Eyes, the portals through which your beauty I trace.

Black mirrors the reflection within your gentle gaze,
Yet the thought of you turns it white in a captivating daze.

Just a solitary letter in a tome of memories, I appear,
Eager to rewrite our tales, for you, my love, I hold dear.
© L.B Rheaven