The clarity of vision is beautiful.

The gift to apperciate the form, and substance of life.

I stood there, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
His eyes, usually so full of energy, now stay hidden, resting, beneath those heavy ladden lids.

His thick long lashes fluttering every now and then.
I let my gaze linger, down to his pretty mouth.
Lips which move and say the sillest things.
Lips which curl up into the most boyish grin ever.

His body. So different from mine. Masculine.
Shoulders, so strong and dependable.
Arms offering a shelter; a shield from the world.
His chest, wide and welcoming.



I take in the sight before me.
He's beautiful.