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Early Morning Light

The screeches of the seagulls wake me from
my slumber in the early morning light
as I rush to take the tram into the city.
I sit before a young maiden and weakly smile
at her, and before the carriage that I
occupy is even on the move, she
says without a shadow of a doubt in
my direction ‘you’re beautiful.’ The words
of the damsel are but a sweet melody to
my ears, however, I do believe that this young
seductress may very well be sleep deprived, for
if she was wide awake, surely she would notice
that I am not deserving of her flattery
as she catches me off guard on this occasion,
my appreciation for such a compliment
being conveyed within the smile that I shine towards
her. But like I said, my belief that she be wrong
with her assertion is absolute, for beauty,
with but a flicker of an eyelash, can
have an audience bow down before their
brilliance, and forever be at their
beck and call, kissing their toes as though they
are their deity. If the lords and ladies of
Paradise really walk amongst us mortals, then
the sheer gorgeousness of your features certainly
overshadows mine. But what words can be said to
someone who defies all known description, when the
use of such archaic terms will be nothing more
than a blatant insult upon you? With this writ,
I take but one breath that be deeper than an
ocean trench, and with time as my only known
adversary, I say the words I believe need
saying in the hopes that you will humbly
appreciate my doing so.