What should I say?
When they curiously ask?
‘What is she like?’
When I myself am,
Yet to figure it out,
Her sinful eyes,
Her angel smile,
Don’t help my judgment,
So I answer,
‘I don’t care, What she is,
How she is?’
Because I love her, I love her
In any, of her many selves,
Dark or light, black or white,
I’m in love with her soul,
And her soul, is God’s art,
And art’s art when it’s,
Obscure, mysterious,
Yet, magical!

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