Romantic dreams

The beauty of her presence haunts the dark in me like the moon to shadows of the night

Like a flower’s smile at the sun’s first light
Like a flower smiles at sun’s first light

Beholding her beauty is a waking dream, losing sight of her a nightmare

Lock my eyes, imprison them, make them prisoners to your majesty

Hearing her snicker, how she does, is a blessed sound in a world of horrific cries

Her smile constricts my own lips, compelling them to mimic her own, gods, what a delightful trick you’ve made in her

She is the grace of sanity to my maddening sadness

Use a snowflake's uniqueness to describe her...

If heaven had eyes, they’d be hers

She’s too pretty, too sweet to be human, at least any human I have known

I gravely dislike watching her go, for the beauty in color, richness in sound, wonder of the sky leaves with her

Seeing her makes me want to kill the bad parts of myself

Get out of my head
Stop wishing I’m dead
Rid of all the dread
Stop listening to everything it’s always said
Back out of the abyss I’ve been led

The eighth wonder of the world

If she jumped off a cliff, I would too if it meant she was the last thing I’d see

Her greeting, more than an embrace
The world disappears without a trace every time I see her face
It’s time against my heart, I wonder which will win the race
And to think I thought I knew what beautiful was, what a disgrace

Everything about her is too pretty to be human; her heart, beliefs, laugh, smile, eyes, voice.
It’s hard to believe what I’m hearing and seeing

Her eyes are dawn and dusk, sunfall and sunrise. Not by color, no, but the only thing I could respectfully compare her to. Looking into them is looking into the sun as it rises for the day and falls for the night.
The majesty and infinite beauty. Hypnotizing, mesmerizing, uncompromising. Burns in its nature to look but you don’t want to look away
You can look and like watching the sunrise or sunfall, you are put in your own place for peace to take you. She takes you.

Being the center of her attention is a most desirable prison. The lashes of her eyes the bars of your cell.
Being the center of her attention is like that patch of land the sun shines on through cloud plagued sky.

She’s the origin of all good dreams, not sandman or Heaven. Her. How is she so…unearthly? One of the best people I’ve met, if not the best.

She’s the end of hell
Hell ends in her wake, its power, presence and influence all fall at her feet
And the one in me? Nerves dead calm and mind devoid of the deafening void.

She’s sweet enough to put any fruit or dessert to shame
To sour any fruit or dessert, oh, what a joyous spoiling

“Does she make you brave?”
"She makes me want to be."
"And what of your demons? Does she make them possible foes instead of impossible?"
"They are defeatable in her presence."
"Presence of herself and in your mind?"
"Both."
"Then love her."

Such a distraction she is, irresistible, not by desire or need, but a force you cannot master, like gravity

Her absence brings an echo of sorrow, a mourning of having missing something rare like an eclipse or meteor shower

My eyes are taken, my eyes are loyal, my eyes are yours

Oh, what sights are to be seen in her soul through her eyes

You could not know her beauty and still know sadness

How could one think so plainly of her? A cardinal sin, surely

At her return from any parting, whether it be distance of mind or body, I am a flower. A flower hungrily drinking the rays of the sun on the first dawn of spring. Their temporary death melting, their true selves unveiling and shining.

If I were to name her smile/give her smile a name, I would name it Hearthealer

The way she tries to stay warm when cold, how often that is, is cute. How I long to be her warmth…
The scrunching of her nose, her own little growl of frustration, mixed with how she shivers, angry and strong fighting one of the fundamental elements
I wish her warmth, I wish to be it

Turns me into a sinner, guilty of greed and carnal gluttony for I don’t want to look away, to give anyone else a chance, and I don’t want her to look away from me. How I drink and feast on the sight of her and her presence.

They call her mortal, “only human” but I care not for blasphemy

To be adorned in her favor is to inspire envy of the gods

At just the thought of her, my demons begin their pleading, “enough!”
Emboldened, I whisper in reply “never”

Not one moment, any number of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, or liftimes could ever be enough to expire the wonderful joy of her eyes. The windows of her soul and that lovely greed they inspire.

Peering within, I am a man starved eating finally, devouring every bit he can find. I am a drunk, emptying a cellar of wine. An exhausted man in the arms of slumber.

Her hair, a fabric woven from the sky’s heart, oh what a gift it’d be to stroke that dress of the heavens

Her smile, the color of her lips so vibrant, such an invitation . The curvature of her lips, sharp yet soft, her pretty teeth hiding her delectable tongue and dance partner to my own. Oh, where did the world go?

She could look into a void, and it’d fill with wonders.

Her voice, a lullaby to put any child to sleep, and the mute could sing to and be strangers to words no more.
Her laugh, a symphony fitting for the greatest of orchestras in the most prestigious of halls, and the deaf can hear and be strangers to sound no more

If she should know sorrows and bear pains, to be her cures and erase her memories carry her burdens would be my aim

Her smile is the origin of magic

Her divinity can turn skeptics into believers, atheists to faithful, blasphemers to sanctifiers, cynics to optimists
Her eyelashes, curtains to heaven
Her skin, aglow the way a goddess’ mortal guise often fails
Her nose, button type with a ridge that contours her brow and compliments her cheeks