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Her.

By
Nobody's perfect,
They say,
But do they really know?
Of your face,
Of your eye's
and of your voice?

It's simple,
they do not,
But I do,
I know of that splendour,
That Fills me with the sight,
of you,
And your face.

Of your eyes, and of your lips
and of their sweet tender taste

That pretty little purse,
Prada? You say?
Uncomparable,
To the thought of you,
Your voice in my ears,
A gentle whisper against the wind

"I love you"
you would say,
Oh, what I would give,
To hear those words,
Brush against my skin

I don't know what to say,
Other than what I already have

An excuse, you may put,
"A Boyfriend", you may say.

But would they ever give,
what I would give,
to see your smile,
as I once did.

You see to me,
you aren't just "that girl",
you aren't just "that a**",
you are you,
in so many special ways.

Nobody's perfect they say,
maybe, maybe not
But to me, you are far passed
that of which they like to call
"perfection"

The epitome, I like to say.





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