His eyes are the loveliest shade of aventurine.
I could easily drown in those bright, green pools.
Prolonged eye contact with him would freeze my body, steal my breath, and render my mind completely unable to think.
His hair is thick, black, and beautiful, like the mane of the finest Arabian stallion.
My fingers could sail through it absentmindedly for all eternity without even realizing it.
A feeling of calmness would settle over me while stroking it, and I would be like one who was in daze.
Said raven hair contrasts perfectly against alabaster skin.
It flows down to his stately neck that I long to kiss like a river.
His face is absolutely beautiful.
His cheekbones are impossibly refined.
Surely it must hurt to be so gorgeous, so magnificent.
Oh, but his voice…
It is like the richest chocolate, the smoothest velvet.
Every time he opens his mouth, my heart stops in anticipation of the sound.
His glorious voice is not wasted on folly.
His words are full of wisdom and intelligence.
He is worthy of being heard not just for the quality of his voice but also for the weight of his words.
They are profound and shaped in perfect eloquence.
His soul and life are tragically beautiful.
His intentions are misunderstood, and madness is lonely.
Crushingly lonely.
He hides his melancholy with mirth, and his heartache with pranks.
He wears the joker's mask to conceal his face of desolation.
His heart should not know suffering.
He should have all the happiness that the world, that the universe has to offer.