perfection is found in the wake of your smile,
the full sound in your voice as it breaks.
an instant effect it pours onto me,
the tone of my voice as it shakes.

perfection is painted on butterflies,
spinning wildly down in your core,
caused solely by words I have spoken.
I know that you keep wanting more.

perfection is spoken as earth sleeps,
your love as we still lay alone.
you may seem so painfully far from me,
but I still try to call you my own.