when i think of the word
beauty
i think of
the canvas of your skin painted with
every little freckle
every nostalgic bruise,
the galaxies inside your bones,
the celestial bodies glimmering in your eyes
your curving lips that hinted
a smile brighter than a multitude of stars
your voice softer
than the french crooners we listen to
every gloomy evening
when i think of the word
beauty
i think of no more but you
and the cosmos that hid under your skin
and how i am merely an wonderer
and you are an entire world to explore.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
when i think of the word
beauty
i think of
the canvas of your skin painted with
every little freckle
every nostalgic bruise,
the galaxies inside your bones,
the celestial bodies glimmering in your eyes
your curving lips that hinted
a smile brighter than a multitude of stars
your voice softer
than the french crooners we listen to
every gloomy evening
when i think of the word
beauty
i think of no more but you
and the cosmos that hid under your skin
and how i am merely an wonderer
and you are an entire world to explore.
Request permission to use this poem