Sunsets

You used to compare me to a sunset. 
And how my blonde hair would reflect the sunlight.
Each strand shining more gold than the last.

You would say that my skin was softer than any sand you had ever felt.
That every bead of water was lucky to roll down my skin.

You would tell me that my eyes had five times the color in them than the sunset.
And that they glistened with every ray beaming off of the sun. 

But eventually the sun went away.
The color drained from the sky as it returned to black.
And the beauty of it would only remain as a memory.

Just as the sun went away, so did the affection you had for me.