Sometimes I wonder,

If you even know, let alone see,

That even the vast stars of outer space,

Nor the Leaning Tower-that for decades-have been out of place,

I doubt that you know,

That looking upon your eyes, I see the lovely gardens and the Brown-blooded Lily,

That your brilliant, caramel smile would make my black soul sickly.

I doubt that you know,

The transcendence that my eyes have seen,

In the dark you shine bright like a lunar queen.

Sometimes I wonder,

If you even know, let alone see,

That you are the melody which stands before me,

Your heart, your soul, my true serenity,

For you are the flower of an infinite elegy.

I doubt that you know, let alone care,

That my heart shudders when I hear your magical voice in this uneven air,

Or that you have witnessed the shedding of my long hair.

I wonder if you know, let alone see,
That even the large Georgian mansions are nothing compared to the beautiful melody that is you,

Nor the mowed lawns of a home which is dampened by the morning dew,

Even the Magicians themselves could not cast the melody,

The melody that is truly you.