He is the sky at dusk.
She is the sea.
Gentle waves
of lavender and sage
carry her awe
in each breath
exhaling at shore.
Il est son amour.

They meet in the mist
at the horizon.
One last
sunbathed kiss.
Scattered stardust
sparkles in his darkness – 
pieces of her heart
tied to the moon.

The result of a derailed poetry challenge. I took two lines from Ninjastroni: she is the sea and tied to the moon. Thanks for the tag.

I took French in high school, but I suck at it because our instructor had a nervous breakdown mid-year and we learned Sprench (French from a Spanish teacher) instead.