Wishful Thinking Poem by Book Worm

My Lord; s hair is not unlike ebony
his flesh would envelop night itself
all 'round himm, cupids live in harmony
his star-like eyes, gleefulness expels

his lips enrich each word he breathes
attends to ur woes and sorrows
for ever, intently listening to ur needs
always gives, never takes, never borrows

beautiful in appereance, likewise with character
not surprising when he expresses his admiration
never setting traps to use as a lure
grieves when he and i face seperation

and who is this man, whom i loves so dearly?
within my grasp. so close, just...nearly