What need have I to say your name, my heart?
When the cruelest hour strikes and I’m awake,
I know you by your brushstrokes—ancient art
you must leave unsigned, lest we both forsake
the bliss of shadows for day’s harshest light.
Come, I want you close enough to inhale
your perfume, frisson of star-fire, long night
straining the leash of darkness. We are frail
and age fast; you are beautiful in flight.
How long until the sun burns itself through
and I write my sorrows by candlelight?
Stay and pulse within my chest, Holly Blue!
O, be not sad. I won’t reveal my name:
the anonymous kiss chars just the same.