beautiful, he calls her. but is she really?
in her purest essence, in what it means to be her, is she beautiful?
according to her, she is not.
according to the world, who knows?
but he thinks she's beautiful. and he would.not.stop. repeating it.


perhaps she's beautiful because of the hints of vanity in her face,
or the twinkle in her eyes, the brightness in  her smile,
or maybe it's the way her hair falls on her shoulder.


but that doesn't make her beautiful.
the traces in her face, only he sees
the twinkle in her eyes, he put it there,
the brightness in her smile, it's because of him
the way her hair falls is a natural mess.


she isn't really beautiful,
she doesn't possess beauty within herself,
it's him that makes her beautiful -
and it's only him that's seen this beauty in her.