What Makes You Perfect.

She told me,
she didn’t like her smile.
There was a gap between her teeth.

It’s funny you should say that,
cause that’s what makes you,
unique.

I feel like I’m playing the counselor every time that we speak,
I guess that’s just the motion,
I guess that’s what makes me,
me.

You’re still trying to figure out if its worth it,
to see if all of this makes sense.
I’m thinking that you’re perfect,
even if you don’t consent.

The tracks have been laid for our movement,
come see forever with me,
only if you choose it.

We’re only enemies if love loses.

The scar on your flesh,
that shape of your chest,
that sway of your dress.

You impress me with your every action,
finding small things a simple satisfaction.

I can’t believe you cover your mouth when you smile.
I think of sitting under the stars with you for a while.

Speechless,
because you’re a pathology of what unique is


Wind Spinner

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About the post

Poetry

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