She hears the words
But cannot accept them
That cherubic face
Those pearly eyes
Uncomprehending, disbelieving
So insecure of the blind truth
Why she can't see it, I wonder
I'm certain everyone else can
The mirror on her wall must lie
Jealous to the point of treachery
For how could it compare?
To that shining face, that flowing hair?
I whisper those three words
Slowly, deliberately
So that she may not doubt her senses
I whisper them so that she may know
I whisper them
And the blood thuds in her ears
What did he say?
It must not be true!
Each syllable rolls off my tongue
Sweet and innocent
As the morning dew
On a blade of grass
I savor them
As a man dying of thirst
Savors every last drop
As a man dying of hunger
Savors every last morsel
As a man struggling for air
Savors every last wisp
As a man clinging to life
May savor each passing second
I savor them to beckon the truth
To wash away the doubt
To show my belief
And as I speak
I know what I say to be true
My brain clicks into place
And the world seems anew
These three words
My gift to you
Take them close to heart
And never let go
You are beautiful.
I bet she laughed at the description. And blushed infinitely, too. And I bet her heart started beating really quickly.