Indigo

The color of love is sometimes indigo a saturated midnight of violet and jasmine. My darkest lover is a forest a night of dark trees she prefers black roses. Darkness is our candle we make love with our shadows in beautiful darkness. She gave to me a box full of darkness and kisses me with tiny sips of grey. We prefer the night drowning ourselves in the depth of its hues darkness soothes. What strange places our love carries us to such dark passages no cry of light. Safe and sound into darkest corners in the circular temple of her heart. She is the raven in the dark we began in the dark we stay in the dark we bleed... ~ ~