star-bright

When I tell you you're beautiful I'm not talking about magazines, the glossy hair and the smoky eyes and the just-right smile that belong to the waiting arms of society's embrace. I am talking about you in the half-light of the evening, the way your profile glows in the shadowy dark. The way the curves of your cheeks make just the right shape. Your lips are thin and your mouth is down-turned while you read and the word "perfect" burbles to my own mouth before I can stop it. You are perfect, every bit of you, the gangly long legs and the thick eyelashes that close over your star-bright brown-green eyes. You are not a hair commercial, you are not a movie heroine. You are the pinnacle, though. Every inch of you just makes sense. The very you of you -- you, in the world. It's the most beautiful thing there is.