I've spent restless nights writing poems to and about you with heavy eyelids; poems you'll never read, poems I'll never have the guts to let you read, poems you'll never even know about.
I've described every single part, perk, quality of you with the most beautiful words I can find in the dictionary because you don't deserve simple, ordinary words.
Even your flaws are beautiful.
And still, I cannot string any of the million words in any language together to describe you or my love for you perfectly.
And I write about you like you sank your paintbrush in a cup of universe and created hundreds of galaxies; like you placed the stars in the sky, neatly arranged them into beautiful constellations.
Here is yet another poem for and about you, written with eyelids as  heavy as the ocean at 3:36 in the morning, after deciding there was no way I could sleep as my mind was still awake and thinking about you- as always.

Those angel eyes, they tell it well.
They speak of how we met in hell.
Your luscious lips, and those **** eyes.
A glimpse of heaven shining through the skies.
My favorite laugh is yours and mine.
After red wine, your cheeks are lovely and divine.
The summer breeze, the pale blue sky.
The day you told me that you loved me,
I almost died.
The golden day, my dearest memory.
When you held my hand and we floated through that field.
We said I do. Our hearts combined.
As the moon shined...
On your angel eyes,
And
I see them well.
I promise to love you until...
The end.