Vistas of Love

When I imagine my iconic vistas of love, I watch a sunset red and yellow, purple and pink, bruised lavendar and darkening grey until pointing jagged mountain peaks turn to black understoried landscape plunging against gravity toward slowly emerging sea of glittering stars strobeless yet twinkling pinpoints of light's long poignant memories. When I imagine this vista I also see through my velvet brown-skinned manchild's deep autumnal eyes starting back and forth, side to side, without capacity or need for language to absorb Earth's dusky light and pine-soaked scent turning up toward dancing brights, 'til dawn's epiphany of grey, then nearly violent, love. When I imagine iconic eros vistas and feel internal agape conjoining philos, appearing nowhere except together, like Yang strong bright and Yin flow night.