YOU MISSED MY POETRY EVENT

You missed my poetry event,
So I will write a poem on you.
Because you are beautiful,
As exhibited by the little beauties in your hair.
It is full of imperfections, you say,
But those imperfections are where I put my fingers
When you aren't looking.
Those imperfections are my handholds
In climbing my way to your kisses,
Which reside upon a pinnacle of virtue.
Not the kind of virtue that involves never doing anything wrong
But the kind of virtue that involves dreams
And chasing realities that may not be attainable
But that reside in ideals
And are not beyond the realms of practicality.
So sweetly you sing your song
When no one is looking
That they forget
You even have that side of you.
But I still see it,
Even when you are not showing it.