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I wonder sometimes why it's you I like
since the brown of your eyes is the brown of your shirt
is the brown of your hair is the brown of the dirt
but then I think: I love your shade of brown.
And I see your sweet eyes when I close both my own,
and your hair strands are arcs like of henna in tone.
I've never liked someone like you before
but your voice has mine stolen away in a note
and your laugh is like freedom, like loosing a boat.
I thought that super-strength was beautiful
but I fell for your lovely and loosely knit limbs
and the welcoming gait of their angles so slim.
For now, I'll take this moment and fly with it.
So I'm learning the lines of your smile by heart
as your fingers are dancing across your guitar.
I'm thinking you're better than all of the rest.