He makes me feel beautiful. Not Vogue beautiful that can be washed away with soap and water. No, he makes me feel Botticelli angel beautiful. Venus de Milo. Starry Night... He makes me feel like art in his private gallery. He looks at me with all the wonder and amazement children have before the world turns them cold. I am a fairy tale and all his wishes come true. A fine wine to be savored; taking in all my subtle notes with each sip his eyes take of me...