I wouldn't dare so much as touch
the same perfection you possess;
Knowing it would be as such
that I, so flawed, could but caress.
The angels must have stolen you
and claimed you for their very own;
Carved from sapphires, cobalt blue
and flawless alabaster stone.
And how could one so simply pure
ever contour anything less?
Your merest actions, so much more
than I could e'er hope to express.
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