I trace your skin with quiet eyes,
Each freckle, scar, a story lies.
In every curve, a whispered grace,
A landscape shaped by time’s embrace.
The world may seek some perfect form,
But in your flaws, I find the warm
And tender truth of who you are,
A constellation, every scar.
Your skin, like satin, brushed by air,
A dance of shadows, soft and bare.
Each imperfection makes you whole,
A masterpiece that soothes my soul.
In love, I see beyond the seams,
Where beauty shines through hidden dreams.
And every mark, a sacred part
Of the canvas woven by your heart.
So let the world look far and wide,
But here in you, I find my pride.
For in your nakedness, I see
The truest form of poetry.
