He found himself wanting to write poetry about how her blue eyes were like starlight and her hair like night, because “night” and “starlight” rhymed, but he had a feeling the poem wouldn’t turn out that well, and Tatiana had rather frightened him off poetry as it was. Besides, there were things you couldn’t put in poetry anyway, like the way that when a certain girl curved her mouth in a certain way, you wanted very much to lean forward and— “Mr. Lightwood,” Cecily said in an impatient tone that indicated that this was not the first time she had tried to get Gabriel’s attention. “I do believe
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