Beautiful

When I called her beautiful, I didn't just say it.

I let it flow from every pore in my skin, every square inch of soul. 

The word flowed swiftly over my lips like a waterfall, 

spewing passion to envelop her figure, pulling its brilliance closer to mine.

Caramel-colored strands, almost as sweet as the candy they represent.

Silky peach complexion dotted with star-like freckles.

Her eyes contained galaxies, and their inner stars twinkled every time she smiled.

A laugh so powerful, it sent shockwaves through my body, where it stopped my heart in awe, left me gasping for oxygen.

Thoughts run rampant in the presence of her spirit, balancing on the edge of sanity.

A desire to see,

to touch,

to hear, taste, smell.

Beautiful said, beautiful meant.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741