I spend hours looking at her
Beauty.
Her lustrous hair, her glowing soft skin, her eyes so beautiful.
She sits there, as I stare intently, creating my sculpted art of my one and only love.
Her giggles, make me laugh
Her eyes, give me hope
Her soul gives mine a home.
Stare I can do all day, and do. Then with her soft spoken voice she asks (are we finished?)
My reply as I make my final smooths (almost my dear)
A few minutes later I reveal a clay heart in my hands.
She says it's beautiful,  but I thought you were sculpting me.
I was my love (I replied.) I see how beautiful you are everyday.
Before I could never express what I felt about you in any just way. Until today when I never looked down at my hands and just made what I feel when I look at you.