Perfect
What is it that makes you you?
Your flaws laid out one by one are many.
Yet you are perfect in every way.
Have I fallen short through my liberal use of reason?
Blinded by the power of imagination ...
What I have asked myself many times, hundreds of lives I have lived,
We have never met but in passing.
Say something.
Our eyes lock, faded memories felt only in dreams
Yes, your flaws make you who you are,
And you are perfect.
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