33 The Beauty That I’ll Never Reach by Colline Aspan
He is the glinting treasure inside a meadow; Aging, always waiting For the one who yearns for his rarity. With hands so gentle in touching mine, He warms my meek heart. Those eyes had me in awe. Such did the stars in the dark sky. But, in that smile was the dying light With eyes that of an exploding star. His genuine feelings questioned When alone with his demons. He doesn't understand that The physical entity was never the basis Of his undying beauty. But how bold is it for me, To assume that he worries about that Or worries about what I think?
