I am not going to talk about how beautiful you are

So, I know this girl

I’m not going to talk about how beautiful she is, even though
she has the softest hair
blue eyes as bright as fairy lights and a
the kind of smile
I’d like to pour over a cake

But I’m not going to talk about how beautiful she is

even though she is a well of love

She is well and truly loved because
when mine dries up
I can dip my heart into hers

But I am not going to talk about how beautiful she is
but I am really having trouble trying not to talk about how beautiful she is

So let me focus on something else

You are loud

You are stubborn
You are

filled with this inexhaustible amount of sweetness

As if your body was made of liquorish
and those who truly love you are allowed to taste it
but know to lick it and leave it so that you have something left

To keep you standing upright

But even when someone takes a bite, swallows you whole and shits you out
you offer them another piece because you think maybe
they need it more than you do

But I am not going to talk about how beautiful you are

 

Even though
Your love has kept me warm when I couldn’t find a blanket
and I have seen you rip off your arm so that you could hug me
and hold someone else at the same time

But I am not going to talk about how beautiful you are

You have a funny loping gait
that kind that reminds me of a BeeGees music video and Michael Jackson’s moonwalk
all rolled into one

And I have seen you afraid
But only because you thought you couldn’t love someone enough

Well, that is not the case
Because the only person you couldn’t love enough is

Stephen Hawkings
If he showed up at your gate you would turn him away faster than it would take him to type help.

 

So there’s one bad thing about you – you hate invalid scientists

But

You really do have a touch like warm sunlight streaming in through the window after a hot shower

But I am not going to talk about how beautiful you are

 

Even though
you have your darkness, and it seems all encompassing
it is basted and marinated in the sweetest candy
that leaves the rest of us hoping
Hoping to dip our hands in to you like the special occasions sweet bowl at my aunt’s house

But I am not going to talk about how beautiful you are.

My insides may be made up curry powder, toxic waste and lemon slices

But there is a little place
round about here
filled with salt and vinegar chips, sour worms and red wine
That’s just for you
And if you need it, I will break off a piece of my spine, dip it in caramel and give it to you.
Yes.

You are really annoying.

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