The Perfect Poem For You

I am thinking.
Hard. Carefully. Hopefully.
Here I am sitting on my cold pavement floor with my notebook.
Pondering. Restless. Hysterical.
I want to describe you with beautiful words.
Words can't even describe you.
Too cliche.

Cute.
Incomparably cute.
When you smile, I sighed, thinking: "God, you got it right."
Your fluffy, smooth cheeks.
If only they were mine. I would kiss them, softly, creating a static of heaven-made love.
"Cute" still does not satisfy the description of you.
English sucks.

Maganda.
Beautiful in your mother tongue.
You are as beautiful as the word.
Or probably more.
Your beautiful body.
Your beautiful lip.
Your beautiful teeth.
Your beautiful 'you.'
It still does not level with your beauty.
Not even close.

Anggun.
Elegant in my language.
Yup, that is what you are.
As elegant as the waltz moves, is your laugh.
Ringing through my sad ears.
Your laugh contains all the happiness that the world needs.
The happiness that I need.
Please come elegantly to my life.
But no.
Because you are not elegant.
You are more.

You prove that man's language needs to restructure.
You are like an angel sent to help mankind,
to help me.

No, words can not describe you because you are beyond human.
No, I failed.
I haven't written the perfect poem for you.
I don't know what you are and you don't who am I.
I guess we will have to talk.