“...I will find once again the light of your beauty - your colored windows in the night...”

“...I'm innocent still -inside me are stained glass windows that have never been broken- and when I see your light it stains my soul with color ...”

“...I wish I could tell the tale of your beauty as my rough hands caress your face...”

“...yes I understand your spells—your sex magic—at least, I know this: all lights dim when you walk in...”

“...when I met you, you were so beautiful, the air around you vibrated with color ...”

“... paint in blue and black...sometimes gray - the colors of night - occasionally I surprise you with a mustard yellow, but then, I am a poet ...”

“...that icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...”