Fbsp (original)

Sitting here gazing at your picture putting pen to paper I'm trying to convey the thoughts running through my head when I think about you.

How can I, oh how can I tell you that your eyes to me are like the deepest pools I have ever known and that I drown over and over again every time I stair into them.

How can I tell you that your lips are like roses? Roses newly blossomed in spring and that their lusciousness is comparable to nothing else I have ever seen or known, that the thought of simply kissing those lips makes my heart yearn for your presents.

And those cheeks, those so-called chubby cheeks that takes on a life all on its own every time you flash that gorgeous smile. They light up like the sun and moon, reflecting all around with their radiance.

In all my rambling I neglected to mention the veil of your beauty, your hair, your long, vibrant and vivacious hair. I think that's why I said you resemble Beyonce but after some thought I realize I was wrong. You don't resemble her for it is she my dear that resembles you. Because you are the original and everyone else is the imitation.

A question comes to mind as I write you this poem and it is, do you bath in milk? For your skin is as clean and clear as the untouched ocean. Its smoothness is as silk, as smooth as your walk and as smooth as your talk. Oh my god, yes that voice. Like the ancient siren women of Greece, who lured sailors to their death by mesmerizing them with their enchanting songs. That's exactly what you do to me. I am mesmerized by your melodic voice every time I hear it.

Yes my dear you are absolutely gorgeous.
The perfect body
The perfect mind
The perfect spirit
You are absolutely perfect.