She worries about her smile,
All the while it reminds me of starlight in the moonlight.
Just as works of art take time to develop

like photographs in a dark room.
She were beautiful before the cocoon,
And she will be after.

Her interest in her inadequacies,
And the probability of her not being enough is a miscalculation,
Of what she can bring to the relation.
And to that I say;
She is the reason my cup runeth over.
I don’t mind being sober while we sit by the fire that grows between us.
Small goodbyes and indulgent hellos,
Becoming entangled as we run our fingers through each others fros.
She is the monarch butterfly who’s design can’t be replicated.
Intricate be design with eyes that leave me sedated.

With banter that is witty and insightful,

The time I spend with her is always delightful.

Organic conversation that is pure,

For the loneliness that I feel-

She is the cure.

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