You are so incredibly, imperfectly, beautiful that it amazes me to how oblivious you are to it.

Maybe its the way your eyes light up when you talk about what you love. I know that look, its the look of a kid on Christmas Day.

Or maybe its your lips. Like rose petals they pin themselves back, showing your teeth.  As you scrunch up your nose, you give that whole hearted laugh. I'm not sure if your laughing at me, or at the moment. I guess I don't really care, I'll take what I can get.

And I've seen you at your worst. I've tried catching you. But my big eyes are not a substitute for my small hands. So maybe I'll just fall with you instead. Besides, isn't the view so much more beautiful form where you can see the whole sunset. Though you say you haven't seen the sunset in while. But, you see it everyday in the mirror. Everyday, the purples and reds and oranges reflect onto the world off your eyes.

Your eyes are funny like that. You wear that mask like its your job, but your eyes never stop telling the truth. You can't fool me, not even with the mask. I know your lies. And then there is your hands. Like velcro they seem to want to interlock with mine.

You have big hands. They can catch. Which is good. I'm terribly clumsy. I'm good at falling.