Your forest brown eyes.

dazzling in sunlight.

Golden strings, weaving your

thoughts together

into a masterpiece

of pure magic.

“It’s not good”

“It looks aweful”

You Idiot, shut up.

it looks amazing.

Like you.

Your golden glow of a smile

shines in every room

you pass by.

Your infectious laughter

Makes me smile at the thought of it.

Then you’ll call my awkward grin cute

and I can’t breathe.

Your voice sends a

million golden butterflies

Each more magical than the one before.

You tell yourself

The things you create aren’t enough.

But God,

They are paintings of pure magic.

They are words with power seeping through their ink.

They are designs that are more creative than the last.

Heck, you’ve built towns with beautiful magic flowing down their streets.

You,

You idiot.

And pure magic.