As she lies there naked, object of perfections
I know she's not perfect, she has a mole on nose
She has curves and some fat, not a modelling pose
But my eyes see beauty in all of her actions

She might turn slightly left when she was better right
Or she might not cook well, frying instead baking
But her laughs light me up and brightens my darking
Endlessly over smiling when mind goes on her flight

Perfect imperfections, some would shameless argue
That rose-colored glasses are tinted in her view
However, past lovers did not receive such due

Now, flowery dresses, my eyes locked in like glue
Making badly tingle when she walks lovingly
Exposing my true heart, and my soul cravingly.