Beautiful
I almost forget to breathe, looking into his eyes
Soft and brown, I get lost in them
“You’re so beautiful,” he says to me.
I’ve always fantasized about meeting that special person who loves me dearly
and let’s me love him in return. That someone who isn’t afraid of love or being
loved, and let’s me get over my fear of love and being loved.
He’s beautiful, inside and out. God, even his soul is beautiful!
And I swear, I love him more and more everyday. Sometimes, I think to myself, I
couldn’t possibly love him more than I do this very second, and the next minute
he proves me wrong. And I’m glad he does. I’m happy being able to love him.
Happy that he lets me.
I know that I can never find any one even remotely close to him in this lifetime, or
the next. And I used wonder. How did I get so blessed? To be able to love him,
and have him love me in return. This opinionated, sophisticated, strong black
being. This down to earth version of an angel. How did this beautiful person
come to love me?
Even though there are so many others who are more desirable than I, he still
chooses to sit here and look into my eyes instead of any one of theirs. He could
steal any one their hearts and lock it away, but he opts to hold mine in his tender
palm, being careful not to break it.
He would rather rest his hands on my waist, squeeze my side, and hold me tight,
than to wrap his arms around anyone else’s.
Instead of taking his pick of their sensuous lips, he presses his full, warm lips
against my own, and any where else he pleases.
And I didn’t understand why.
So I asked, “Why do you love me?”
He looked at me as if I was suppose to already know. As if it was staring me in
the face, but he answered me any way.
“Because of your beauty, and not just your physical beauty like your sexy eyes,
and soft lips, and those delicious hips, but because of your mind, and the way
you let me stimulate it. Because of your heart, and the way you let me keep it. I
love the way your soul speaks to mine. I love you because you let me love you,
and that makes you what you are.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He smiled and said, “Beautiful.”
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