for days

For days now, I have been trying to write the perfect love poem
one that would include the love that was
those sweet kisses from the boy who I met backstage, who I still hold in my heart
those heart stopping kisses from the man whose green rimmed brown eyes freeze my breath
the biting kisses from the cinnamon-eyed man who holds my heart, with a dark passion that is not unlike the power of Quetzalcoatl
and the unknown kisses from the man I have not yet met, whose kisses will last forever, last as long as the dark stars in the autumn sky