Of the Aurora

 A boy, eyes alight  
From the fire of blue, red dragons  
Twisting, breathing mist, frost
Born from the movements of his attenuated fingers
Dancing across a canvas,
Characters bleeding colored iridescent ink,
 
Hair hued the shade of arctic dust, lips patterned  
With the indents of ancient glaciers
And with a whisper of her tongue
Sedating the world around her,
Easing it into the leisure of pause
As she dances for her alterations,
 
Then him, the one who's hot to the touch,  
Veins lavender and irises silver, incandescent,
A penumbra in a species of maladroit leeches,
Ever wandering, forsworn hiraeth
Glinting eyelashes of metallic, destined to cut  
Those who peer too close  
 
Fangs imbrued to the wash  
Of sanguine dawns,
And a coat born from the silk of shadows  
Manipulating memories with a twitch of its whiskers,  
Dark eyes following those it guides
Paw prints transmuting from stars -  
 
                   to painted oceans
 
My heartbeat,
          Reflective