I can't write about the curve of his lip when he laughs
Or the freckles that are scattered around his face
I can't describe how his smile brightens my day
Or how the slight caress of our hands make butterflies erupt in my stomach
No, I can't write about the way he makes me feel
Or the beauty of his features
For he is nothing like poetry,
He is not simple enough to be turned into words
But he is himself
And that's all I'll ever want,
And all I'll ever need.