I became the pink shoe upon your honeyed feet. Kid smooth, punched. Icing sugar and cherry baby leather. Steel tipped stilettos. Sweeping away toward the dance floor. I carried ice blue denim washed, draping myself around your legs, with incredible faith. Following your calves at a respectful distance, and caressing your thighs closer and closer. I encased your curvaceous torso as white gauze, dripping from the shoulder of a goddess. I ran with excitement through the fine threads. I circled your wrists and neck, dancing in topaz and sapphire, borne over emerald seas. I nestled golden and stiff in your midriff, feeling every breath and heartbeat. I became your hair. Lustrous, mahogany polished splinters, lying in folds, imbued with electrifying energy. And then your eyes, chocolate orbs, signifying stillness, serenity. Above them I became a delicate crescent of expression, talking to those that could see. I lay in the tiny folds of your lips, living for every moistening, and closure. I sprinkled myself snowy and glittered, inside your mouth. Each time the sun entered, I lit up, vibrant with desire. I spiralled from your throat, in dulcet song, resonating your words, in lettered pleasures. It was me who wrapped myself around your body, as smooth, dusky pliant skin. Shaped and fashioned in such a way that my heart stopped momentarily, alongside your heart. I became that heart, smiling, loving, and laughing. But, I cannot become your essence, running silver. Visible, then invisible. I cannot, catch it.