The Lover’s Eyes

25^th Oct, 2021

I am not like Petrarca’s lady with silky fair hair and even fairer skin, whose cheeks outshine the most beautiful rose, with blue eyes and a walk so light she barely touches the ground, neither am I like Shakespeare’s lover with wires for hair, a dirty complexion, smelling foul, making earth tremble under my feet.

I am my own and, more than that, I am his. The one’s who still tells me each and every day that he loves me and how beautiful, cute, sexy and adorable I am. He’s been wearing those infamous rose-coloured glasses for more than ten years now and I pray to God he never takes them off, just as I do and always will refuse to take off mine.

He will forever be my hero, my knight, my barbarian and my king, and I hope to perpetually remain his beloved, his queen, his dame and his enchantress.