Your head is a star with a crown of prisms.
reflecting truth and goodness.
Your center is fueled by scarlet wick, nourished by heaps of lavender petals and oceans of honey.
Your grandmother hands remind me of freckled violins and I am content when you open your office door to let me in.
Safety is your den with it's burgundy pillows and imperial tear erasers.
I'm under your doorway now;
you've put me there to weather the storm.
Me with my Julia Migenes-Johnson hair and you with your shapely violin arms.
You played beautiful music, I think it was Bizet.
"L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendere; tu ne l'attend plus, il est la! Tout autor de toi Vite, Vite!"
We're like two cats, I'm a black Maine Coon and you're an Abyssinian.
You're the color of Hestia, Tuscany Orange and spicy.
I'm a black Carmen.
Nevertheless, we blend like pepper bean and cinnamon.