He was dark

He was dark, 
a shadow with beings darker than he dwelling in his head.
His body was like an open window in winter,
cold,
uninviting. 
His hands were frigid,
fingers blue.
But nothing like the ice in his eyes.
He intrigued me, 
I was like the sun compared to him.
An average person
brightened
by his dark presence.
I was warm.
I was light.
I was every star,
because of him.
He was freezing.
He was night.
He was the inky blackness that swallows the sun.
He was beautiful.