I can't explain why I need a photo of you to write. We've never met and still I draft millions of miniature masterpieces with you in mind. The grace in your beauty bends my imagination and unrelentingly sharpens my vision to focus on descriptive depictions that dignify your delicate demeanor. Each of these pieces should be entitled after one of your physical features as a sentence with no period and my novel will be named after a beautiful, unknown woman. I can use words to describe why you appeal to me and that's why you're my poetry. The thousand words in the photo of you eventually blend and bleed into a metaphorical beach with an infinite pier, vanishing beyond ships with no sails who can no longer steer.
I can't explain why I need a photo of you to write. My pen depends on intimate imperfections, long brown strands of subtle sensuality, and secrets behind hazel eyes that blink when embarrassed along with a soft pink blush to balance the beauty. This is the way I write-with an attractive woman that I have yet to find, to piece together an entire poem in my mind. So here's the title: Beautifully you, written by me.
Took me 3 weeks to write this aaand yes, it's nonfictional.
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