To Define This

She

Birthday cake memories
And laughter with children
Could never compare
To even a polaroid picture
Of a yellow spring fairy.
Nor could that copy
Compare to the light she excludes through each breath
And bat of eye.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but for her,
I find they
All
Fall
Flat.

Her voice, rejuvenates my soul
As I had slept for centuries
And she is the creeping sunlight across pillow beds
Air-brushed kisses and
Slow coffee and
Melancholy strums of guitar
That bring me back to life.
To whom belongs a smile that seems of crisp apple juice
On those brilliant spring days
Under oak trees a million tall and a thousand wide.
With chocolate hair that melts down her face
And matching eyes
Warm and alive and
Home.

Then her laugh, one that dunks me in longing
For a future only imagined
Til my lips turn blue
With the cold of want.
And humor and heart
That stab through my skin
And pierce through
Even the deepest of doubts
To bring me back to her light.

How could this be wrong?
When she is far too pure
To be anything but
Right?
It would be an honor
To ache for her
From afar
Behind a mask of friendship.

It seems no matter what
I do
Storytime nostalgia will always
Taste only of
A beautiful girl
Who knows nothing
Of me
While I know everything
Of her.