I think of this poem as splattered on the page, like a constellation. There is that brightest star, it represents your smile. A portal of scintillating light. Last night I had a dream that you were dressed in black playing a George Frideric Handel keyboard suite (No. 11 in D Minor) on the piano. I want to take you to coffee with your black-rimmed glasses on. They make your eyes look like the opposite of ivory rose. I want to see you laugh at a joke. I bought dark chocolate-covered espresso beans that came in an adorable tin. They remind me of you. Iridescent as a raven’s coat. You eyes are dense as marble, thick like the darkness when someone shuts off the lights in a room. Something about you exudes minor key tonality, a stirring inky onyx like the night sky. Impenetrable as the mystery of life.