Beauty in the eye of a beholder, beautiful and mesmerizing, all I desire is to hold her.
Consuming all the past definitions of what I believed was attractive, more precious than anything, but it must not be reflective.
You don’t seem to see the perfection in your reflection.
You don’t seem to know that, with all the patience of a child, you were waited on.
I don’t want to give my heart to just anyone.
No, they won’t do, and besides, it already belongs to you.
No one else could live up to the fantasy you’ve become inside of me.
Visions of you cross my sight constantly, it seems, as I drift to sleep, praying I visit you in a dreamlike state since I can’t seem to hold you while I’m awake.


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