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...
~ ~
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