We worked our way through drunken nights

yet seeing your face struck by moonlight

standing by the window with a cigarette

makes me wonder how bright city lights 

can compete with a face such as yours—

yet you said that love is never measured

by the acres of skin we touch, nor words we say

nor how we kiss, nor the way we cook

for someone we long to spend forever with,

but is measured by the hint of sparkle in their eyes,

enough to light an entire city.