A Mushy Poem I Never Saw Coming

I think it has to do with your hair.
The dark chocolate strands
Curling and turning
Tickling
So smooth between my fingers
Falling messily on your brows.
Speaking of brows
Your eyes might be it.
Mossy green
No
Yellowy green
No
You green.
Yes, you green.
Fringed by massive lashes
They put my own mascara laden eyes to shame.
When you blink
They brush your cheeks,
Oh my gosh, your cheeks.
Perfectly balanced with that strong jaw
Defined, sharp
When you move your mouth,
The muscles beneath ripple and stretch taunt.
Taunting me.
But you’re not perfect.
There’s that mole on your cheek,
It’s kind of big.
And you tend to forget spots when you shave.
And sometimes
When you open your mouth
You say the weirdest things.
Then again,
That’s part of it.
That’s part of why I love you