They are outlined by an angelic glow
skip-roping with a halo, as they drift
golden embers ablaze in monochrome
lingering towards my lips when we meet.
They wield the sun on their shoulders
while pirouetting under the clouds.
To hold onto their fingertips would not burn
but simply radiate, igniting your singular spark.
They have skin diffusing resplendent beams
baptising your cheeks to glow eternal youth.
And like sunflowers, they peer out of their petals
with an internal bloom that will never wilt.
They can coat you like caramel
and sweeten your aura like honey.
But as stalks of straw amongst a flaxen field
these people are modest to their own brilliance.
❤️��
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