Forgetting Who I Am

She’s made my knees weak
For weeks
I love the way her glasses rest upon her cheeks
But I hold my tongue
Afraid to speak
She’s got this certain mystique
That is beautifully unique
But who am I to cross paths with love?
She’s the epitome of perfection that you can’t even speak of
I should be either
Deprived of
Disposed of
Devoid of
Fall short of
Or all of the above
When it comes to the joyous feeling that’s considered to be her love
She’s perfectly imperfect
And perfectly worth it
And now to the beauty within her
This song I sing
She doesn’t know it
But she is more than my everything