Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Sequin-ring,
dancing,
the raindrops pooling
follow the root
of your finger,
up the paper-facing wing,
against the current,
away from me,

Sunlight,
falling,
the gathering dew spots
on the leaves of the maple tree,
reflect the ephemeral eternity,
sharp as the tremoring echos
of my affections,
drawn out,
along the root
of your finger,
up the paper-facing wing,
against the current,
close to me