Imperfection

The most beautiful person in the world to me, is the imperfect person. There are so many things that are wrong with him, so many flaws, but he is the most perfect imperfection. He has wavy rich chocolate brown hair that he has let grow out. I don’t like it long, but he wants it long and he wants to dreadlock it. That’s fine with me, as long as he is who he is. His eyes are a color that he hates, but a color that I love. Like his hair, they are a rich brown that in the sun turns transparent and golden. He is not in the fittest form and he is self conscious about his weight, but no matter what he thinks there is nothing wrong with his body. He is the strongest boy that I have ever met and he sweeps me off of my feet and I feel the warmth of his strong core against me. It is a beautiful feeling. He is taller than me, and I like it that way. His hands are something that I can marvel at for ages. Don’t take this in the wrong way, but I love his hands. There is something so beautiful about his broad palms and his thick strong fingers with short-cut nails. His face is full and his nose sturdy, his lips are complete and his forehead is broad. There may be small flaws in your eyes, but not in mine. There is only complete perfection in his few pimples and thick stature. The most beautiful thing about him though, is his humble and loving heart. That is what matters the most to me, the sweetness and thoughtfulness set in with the playfulness and teasing. So no matter the mistakes that he makes, no matter his weight or the length of his hair, he is imperfection and that is the most beautiful thing in the world.