Chiaroscuro Poem by Effie Yalena Steyn

Your face lit gently, harshly,
a crescent moonbeam in
this silver glazed night.
No, make that sunbeam,
for to me you shine so bright.

I love you.
I know that now, new year, new me,
and I understand myself for the first time,
you see.
I love your head, frail eyelashes unblinking,
lips reaching forward, your hands
and the words you make- black lines of
meaningless meanderings.

Just a curve or two you are from seeing me
staring hopelessly at your cheek and the little muscle in
your forehead pulses along with my heart.

But on you read, and on
right or wrong,
I watch you,
steeped in amber,
through these fine light/dark times.