if I could ​master my own illumination:

 
 
let strangers peek through Snell’s Window​​​—
they peer from just below the surface
through a liquid light
encircling me in fluid frame
 
let my love see me through his hands,
each caress a gentle kaleidoscoped turn of seasons:
 
autumnal amber hues pulsing between branches’ bustling leaves,
winter’s pastel palette​ settling itself among ammil,
springtime sun stretching through​ abiding apricity​ and reaching for
summer sunset bathing my ​bended body ​in engilded glow​
 
let me see myself—
 
      myself
 
suspended in stellar sequence,
somewhere between bioluminescence 
& the Fata Morga​na