Immaculate. Pristine. Ethereal.
Few words may come close to how beautiful you are,
yet still unjust—
no true word could mirror you.
Lunarian,
Anchor to all lovers of the sea,
One above Helen,
The meaning of existence,
The proof of God’s love,
The true mirror of Narcissus.
These truths may be so,
but still a shame—
they will never be enough in words.
Oh, how vexing,
that only eyes can tell.
A poet cannot claim,
cannot show to others
the fullness of your beauty.
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