The Boy With The Ocean Eyes.

Not one flaw as I can see, not even as arrogant as most would be.

It’s almost as if every time I see you, your pureness melts into liquid gold.

Sharing the same passions and dreams as I

Sparks a illuminating light in my eye.

When my shyness grows your confidence thrives

With my mind buzzing like fireflies.

I close my eyes and dream of you.

With your ocean eyes you’ve won the prize.

Below your nose and above those lips, holds the most precious gift.

A scar.

What most would see as an imperfection, I see a story that I yearn to hear.

A story that makes you, you and with such story I can’t help but grow fond of you.
 What this is I do not know, but it grows more and more everyday.

So foreign and confusing, but never disapproving. I too someday will find this amusing.

Until then this is all I have; with my pen being my voice and the paper being you.

A story has been written between the two.

J.

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