Shiny raven locks frames your profile,
Twinkling orbs of midnight black eyes,
A whisper of smile on your lips,
Honeyed words on your tongue.
You wear your charisma and charm, As if they were your exclusive birthright.

Perched on your Royal Enfield,
From the proud tilt of your neck To your blackest leather jacket, Dark coffee aroma in your cologne.
Everyone wants a piece of you
Yet you are too clever to be the prey.
You stride up the path like a hunter,
in the flickering luminescence of fireflies,
Moonbeams illuminating our faces
Locking eyes with you was fatal
Suddenly, the gravity pulls us into focus.

You cemented this fate,
Like a moth to a flame.


-Deema L.
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