The photographs I have of her, incomplete.
The mere copied image does not compare,
To her hazel eyes, adorned with makeup,
Or her chickenpox scar on her upper right eye lid.
Her hair, dark, glistens, as light reflects sharply
A picture cannot tell you how she sounds,
Kind words uttered in soft tones,
Her voice is music.
Nor can a picture show you how she moves,
Slowly caressing her face,
Moving shiny locks of hair from in front of her almond eyes
She does not know how beautiful she is.
The mere copied image does not compare,
To her hazel eyes, adorned with makeup,
Or her chickenpox scar on her upper right eye lid.
Her hair, dark, glistens, as light reflects sharply
A picture cannot tell you how she sounds,
Kind words uttered in soft tones,
Her voice is music.
Nor can a picture show you how she moves,
Slowly caressing her face,
Moving shiny locks of hair from in front of her almond eyes
She does not know how beautiful she is.
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