Something Else.

“Tell me, what is she like?”
It was a simple question
With a simple answer.
I sighed, for the answer
Was not all that simple
For someone who loved you
As much as I did.
“She is simply-”, I had to pause
To think of the appropriate word.
I could not fathom
What that you meant to me.
I could not attempt to express
How I felt in your presence,
Or the effect your mere laugh
And voice had on me.
I could not show
The way my lips curled,
Eyes twinkled and heart warmed
When I heard you sing.
I couldn’t demonstrate
The movement inside of me
When we spoke of our Utopia.
It was nearly impossible
To elaborate the spell
Cast by your words,
As I read your magic,
Transfixed in hypnotic ecstasy.
It was beyond me, to show
How all the turmoils and storms
Inside of me died down
As you overpowered them
With your calm reasonings.
I could not have my heart
And soul scrutinized
By anyone else.
None but you could ask me
The questions that kept me awake,
Thinking of a befitting answer,
Long after the clock struck midnight.
I could lose my breath,
Spending innumerable moments
Trying to encompass
The entirety of your essence,
For you aren’t just a pretty face.
No, it would be offending to merely
Sing the praises of you exterior,
When there is your elusive mind
And all it’s puzzles to conquest.
I whispered,
“She is simply something else.”
For nothing I ever said
Could justify the everything in you.

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