…because it’s none of your business, is why. But she got upset I didn’t praise her here, so try this on for size:
Her eyes are pure brown. When the sun shines through sideways and into them, the beauty of it could take my breath away. When she looks at me, they are full of love. But she can’t look at me for long; I guess I’m hard to look at. She says I’m handsome but she can’t sometimes…and I want to just stare and stare, especially when the light is just-so.
The skin of her face is textured. She has these fine little hairs you can’t see but if you have the immense privilege of touching her, you will feel that it is different to touch than it looks. Sometimes I run my hand over it, savoring that feeling, and that she lets me near.
It’s wonderful to feel her hair no matter what she does, if it’s bedtime in the morning it’s charming. if she pulls it up I like it. If she leaves it down I like it. If her curls are tight or loose or frizzy I like it. It smells like her. Sometimes it smells like her hair products and sometimes it smells like outside, but it always smells like her. When I hold her tight in the night, it goes all up my nose and it’s okay because it’s her. It’s so soft, when I kiss it. She likes me to run my fingers through it when she feels like it’s extra soft. Sometimes I find hairs in my laundry and I like the reminder of her even if it’s an annoying something rubbing me until I figure out what’s loose in my shirt or whatever.
Her face is pretty in profile
Her face is pretty straight on
For a few days more than a year now, my favorite picture has been my computer’s desktop background: her face, grinning at me from the computer screen. She has the cutest little nose, and her cheeks stand proud. When we are in . . . a certain position and she looks down at me, or I look down at her, the beauty of it is so lovely, it almost hurts.
Her lips, when she is not happy to kiss me, they go hard. But when she loves me, they are soft. The little ridge on the front, I play with it. Sometimes I have to remind myself not to bite too hard. Sometimes, she bites my lip too hard also but I don’t mind. The passion behind it more than makes up for a little sore lip for a few minutes (or days)
I think she doesn’t like her eyebrows but they are hers and they look nice actually. They go well with the shape of her face.
Her neck is exactly the right height for me to kiss on and it has a certain effect on her when I do that. Sometimes, I do it just because it is pure joy to have her feel that way in reaction to my love. When her hair is up, it is like an invitation, beckoning me to
Her bosom is soft unless it is confined. Sometimes when she lets me touch my mind just goes blank. She has such curves, y’all.This is the body of a real woman! To run my hands down her side, they move a LOT to follow the shapely shape!
She somewhat dislikes her belly, but it tells me she loves me. All her peers are fat and/or frumpy, but she keeps herself smaller to keep me happy looking at her. Lying in bed at night, I run my hand along the swell of her hip and thigh (she has such curves!) and then she lets me hold her until we sleep. …or until someone kicks, or has to pee… I love our routine. It is our shared experience we do almost every day.
I even like her bad foot. The good foot is very nice to look at and sometimes I … nevermind what I do. But the bad foot shows me she is still vulnerable. She is so strong and brave, sometimes it’s like she doesn’t need me at all, but . . .
…and when she puts on tight jeans, great God what a view!
All of this, always always I know it. This all is a part of me. It’s so personal I can’t share it easily. But here is this little essay in praise of the most attractive woman in the world* because I think she would like to see it.
*to me. There is nobody else I want to see but her. I’m in love, can you tell?