smoke drifted across the thick silence hanging in the air
writhing in serpentine patterns toward the ceiling before lazily bursting apart.
"what do you see in me?" you asked.
i had to take a moment to think, shocked by the suddenness of your question.
there were a million answers that could be given.

"i see someone who strives to be above perfect."
someone who broke apart the glass barrier of adversity closed around him,
and who is still picking glass out of his arms and knuckles.
he fights every day to be something more than what he is.
he embodies perfection without realizing it.

"i see someone who wants love but is afraid of it."
it's like looking into a mirror, sometimes.
maybe inside, you're just as shredded as i am.
you only give a little, to the misery of my aching heart.
but the feather light touches of your fingertips
granted in sweet morning light, when we both have yet to wake up,
well, it speaks volumes.

so many more answers i could have given, but you invoke a series of complex emotions.
some of them aren't worth naming.

you stared at me, and i marveled at the exquisite angular artistry writ in your visage.
i can't look at you without noticing how **** handsome you are.
but the next words cut like ice,
"that's not good enough."