Words

Oh dear precious, How precious you are and beauty that consists within thee. Just like a stamp, pressed hard to a piece of paper, leaving the marks identical mirror image, such as you, a mirror image of me. You are the exact beauty I imaged you. I was full of joy, pleasure and contentment as I constructed you. There is nothing more perfect than how I imagined it. Syllables cased out, arranged together forming words, those words causing nothing to become something. Or should I say all things, just as I imaged them. As I said them, they had a mission that could not fail them. That they concerned... it was Creation.