That skin of yours is turning red,
the real colour is screaming out of your mascara,
the eyeliners give way to hints I have trouble deciphering,
those dimples are saying “darling come to me”.
Those hands are on your hips and chest,
on one side your hair have parted,
they give way to the eyes I am staring.
The other part has already fallen,
Down it flows and covers the other eye,
That hides whatever hint it could give,
If not for your nose you wouldn’t be human to me,
That tells me you are approachable,
Everything else, is so remarkable.
That’s all I have to say looking at one picture of you.
And there are so many to go through when the night is so young.

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