I saw you garlanded, until
you showed me you are beautiful
ungarlanded. An early whim
to dress you in a fantasy
has given place to who you are.

Do not think ill of me, if dearth
of substance led me to invent
a chimera; each passing day
you grew more real, your presence gave
the lie to mere hyperbole.

Now you are here, and in your voice
is honesty, and in your eyes
a pure reflection of my own.
There is no need to look away.

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