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Don’t call me pretty
Don’t fall in love
with the color of my eyes
Don’t tell me I have nice hips
Don’t compliment my hair
I was never doubtful of
anything but your sincerity

Don’t tell me that you love me
words give false hues to intentions
Do show me all your shadows
I’ll take shade in your candor
Love my crooked teeth
before my perfect lips
Give me more than mirrors

Don’t show me all your glory
Don’t let my eyes make choices
Don’t think I can’t work wonders
Just know that I respect you
Do show me how you suffer
so I can strengthen for the burden
Our souls are stronger than our vices

Let me feel your love
Do let your gaze forge valleys
Know the color of my spirit
Do tell me God is beautiful
Do tell me I remind you
Of something more than desire
Do see me as a window
and not a pretty picture.

— The End —