Aperature

My feelings for her developed  
slowly like a photograph  
in a dark room.  
 
She hung from my lines of poetry,  
dripping with form and structure,  
waiting to be bathed  
with my warm words.
 
The way I looked at her  
was black and white,
clear as the water  
sitting calmly in a tray
developing her image.
 
We went through the steps  
underneath the red bulb of love
only to find ourselves  
in the darkness
where the only light  
came from our eyes
and it is there where I saw
her beauty appear.