When my lips
First touched yours,
The sky blushed red—
A dusk of fire,
A hush widespread.
Flames of amber
Danced through the air,
As if the sun itself
Had lingered there.
Your face—
The glow of a dying day,
Your lips—
The promise that light won’t fade away.
No words we spoke,
No sighs were heard,
Yet the sky turned poetry
Without a single word.
Birds paused mid-flight,
Clouds turned to wine,
And the world collapsed
Into your lips and mine.
Your kiss—
The last warmth before night’s veil,
My heart—
Sailing that twilight sail.
To this day,
Every evening glow
Brings back your touch
In a crimson flow.
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