I looked at you tonight and I saw you.
Not the you that's in a photo, or the you at work,
I saw you.
I saw those brown eyes with lashes curled
I saw your soft brown hair flopping over those eyes.
Those eyes that wear glasses, to me a perfect imperfection.
You stared at the distance, seeing nothing at all, yet,
understanding everything.
Slowly with the hands of a pianist you ran your fingers through your hair and took those glasses off.
Yet, still the bewildered stare.
I'd like to say, that, your not seeing me let me in.
I saw your irritating habits;
(i) not pairing socks
(ii) squeezing the toothpaste from the middle
(iii) not clearing away as you cook
(iv) hating my choice of music
(v) hating vegetables
(vi) loving me
~
The list of perfect imperfections goes on,
but as I watch you staring at nothing,
I would say perfection is overrated
You are my perfection.
I'm sorry I had to go and leave you
Life isn't perfect, and neither is death.
And as I watch your tears fall
I realise I only had one perfect imperfection: you.