concatenation of perfection

to my mind
she was a
series of non sequiturs
because perfection
is a stand alone trait
even if her perfections
stretched beyond
the typical scope
inherent in mortals
as i fell in love
with each facet
bound in beauty
like dream
captured in amber
in the very randomness
of her concatenation
there is a thread
wound through
a divinity
that calls out
to my particular brand
of boundless unholy

the woman i love
is more than
a random string
of ones and zeros
she is every digit
dreamt
by sleeping deities
a coven full
of natural destruction
in the form of life itself
a boundless pool
reflecting the glory
of the stars
in every fleeting smile
the depth of the ocean
the vastness of space
in her breath i can taste
the fires of creation
in her eyes i wilt before
the fury of nature
a concatenation
of sheer perfection

as if designed
particularly
for me

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