A Revelation

I think I'm in trouble, watching morning's, dance of light, across the crumpled pillow, noticing a fleck of amber in your eyes, I see insects inside, as you set your gaze, upon the hearth of my softest line, feeling naked, and buzzing, for more, imagining that those insects sealed, their pleasant fate, staring into your sun, caught in rays that spark familiar, but new, each time touched, a revelation, that shimmers across a resin sky, without a hint of cloud above, and it makes no real sense, but I stare on, because not one thing, is considered sensible, in love.