He is beautiful , while sleep has claimed his being , yet you see the light , the kindness ,  illuminate through the mere fluttering of lashes.

He is beautiful, while his words burn with passion , with determination that gives life to the thousands of actions we are yet to see , yet to know .

The curve of lips  , The smoothness of muscle , the charm of words should be transcended to see the soul that questions everything.

Is he still beautiful as you explore the  depths that were shadowed with cracks so intricate that it left your lips dry , made your heart ache?

Is he still beautiful as your  touch unearths the untrodden valleys that seize your voice , capture  your  unspoken words  , leaving you inarticulate, ambiguous?

Is he beautiful as you transcend what you can see , as you hear the secret whispers that dominate the  depths of his heart , the whispers that obliterate your notion of allure , of beauty ?

Is he still beautiful ?