that shot of you
when you stand there momentarily imbecile
dumbfounded or distracted,
your mouth wide open,
god it's beautiful

you do it when you don't hear the question
"What?" you ask
and your jaw drops
but with your beauty it is nothing worse than comical
and always
adorable

Do you see that I love you?

Talking with your mouth full
no regard for manners
it is not disregard, not at all
you are simply unaware
lost and innocent as you are
in the natural graces of your every sacred movement

I would like to wake up next to that in the morning
your confused and dopey expression
I would like to watch you offer toast to your mouth as you talk over
breakfast,
I would like to be the one who loves your quirks and habits

of course everyone loves your quirks and habits
the details of your perfect imperfection
It hurts to know such detail
to record and comprehend it
it hurts to take my place in the gallery of worship
to be another amateur who thinks he alone understands the
author
I am more than this though, aren't I?

I am giving up on these words now,
they are just letting me down again.

I stand and stare.