I stare into the water and see my reflection
But where does he see all the perfection.
What does he see?
What does his eyes marvel at when mine close at everything?

He stares into the water not knowing that he is perfect
Wonders if he is worth it
Telling me to find someone who is worth it
But he was and still is worth it

The other stares not knowing that he is at sight to behold.
He sees the imperfections like a critic would see a piece of art
Ignoring the paint that was placed with such a delicate hand
and focusing on the wrong crooked incorrect lines.

Who else needs to take a walk on the decK