she is not a preplanned list

or a recipe of perfection.

she is not a dictionary of

adjectives or an inventory of

the most beautiful things that designs

a flawless human being.

she is not a checklist

of qualities that makes her

an exception.

she is raw and flawed.

she has emotions that makes

her unique.

she is like the broken tiles

that is used to create an artwork.

she is a rainy day

that forms a glorious, and

vibrant rainbow.

she is the mud

that sustains the growth

of gorgeous flowers.

she is a mushroom

that grows in the wilderness.

she is an old blanket

that warms my heart on a

cold day.

she is imperfect

but that is what makes her whole and

that is what makes her, her.

and i love her

twice as much for it.