my friend is a writer

How blissful it is to be blinded
By a person’s light-
Light, blinding light, emanating
From their chest,
Baring their beauty and soul
For all the world to see.
So bright that it could not
Be hidden by the darkest of shades,
Making it hard to look at them
Without being knocked unconscious.
No fluorescent bulb
Or on and off switch.
No dimmer or adjustment
To the truth.
No, this light is like that of the sun,
Which faithfully shines every
Day without fail.
This light is contagious,
It ignites the candles of those near.
It is pure and good;
Radiance cast upon the
Darkest of shadows,
Reaching the smallest of corners,
Covering all.