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Dear Ms. Imperfection
Gazing into your eyes I see a clear vision of your soul,
A window to a brighter you,
The true person you are;
But not perfect.
I lavish in the gift of her presence, a sense of joy, a sense of emotional ecstasy, and a sense of belonging.
I’m held in captivity for deposing of her sadness, in a favor of her broking heart.
I’m a inmate of affection in her love facility, even locked down I’m free;
But she’s not perfect.
When I see her…
My mind begins to race, to a place, to where her pure emotions lay.
My eyes close, to embrace, and visualize the smile on her beautiful, non-perfect, brown face.
The image portrays that life’s priceless, and I’m down to my last; but she’s worth it.
In contrast, the picture isn’t perfect in my frame of mind.
How can her eyes see who I’ll become to be?
How can the pieces of her heart fall into my bare hands, for me to mend together?
How can her mind bend the essence of reality, so she can dream?
The answers are in her soul, waiting for mine, to diminish the sorrows, and redeem my happiness.
If I don’t gaze upon her beauty today, then my selection is to see her for a thousand tomorrows.
As the pain rises away from me, I’m falling for Ms. Imperfection.
When I land, love isn’t just a dream, but a possibility.
The world can perceive you as they want because your imperfections are perfect as far as I can see.
Who is Ms. Imperfection with?
She’s with me.
So who are you to tell us we cannot be…?