CLIII.

Your smile dances
along the limits
of your face,
Like musical notes
Tiptoeing across the page
Each one of your teeth
Playing it's part
in the orchestra.
Never have my eyes
encountered something
as graceful as
your silhouette
Elegant and spectacular
As my hand traces
it's way down your neck
stretching outward
like a plateau onto your shoulders
The centerfold of your
magnificence,
So round and soft,
And accented so easily
by your collarbones, barely
nudging above the surface of your skin
Followed by your nipples,
Perky and cute and everything
they need to be.
Winding slowly down your abdomen
Soft and tender and right,
Until your hips rise up
like a ridge in a forest,
preceding the most delicate
piece of your puzzle.
I spend time mystified here
by the beauty and simplicity of
your womanhood.
But your legs never ask
questions, they stretch on
Like roads in the country,
winding and beautiful.
Your ankles so sophisticated
and sharp hinging your tender
feet. Every inch of your body
is a journey, and every scar,
Every bruise,
Every bump,
Every little thing
Even the ones you hate
are to be admired, like
the cracks in an aging road,
One only wonders at the stories behind it all.
Everything you think an imperfection
really just appends to your beauty.
Did I mention that your eyes are endless.
So vast, that I get lost there, but I still count
Because to me you are like music,
You are becoming the song that is in my soul
And I count your steps,
Your words,
Your movements,
As the footfalls in a wondrous dance of romance.
I count, because you are rhythm.
I count because you are reason.
I count because you are motion.
And I count because you are chaos.
I count the hours,
The minutes,
The seconds,
Until I see you again.
I count every second of your song.