I Love You As You Are
A Aniruddha Pathak
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No one is nor art thou without some flaws,
But each thine flaw, dear, endearingly irks,
It strange seems; I dare say without a pause,
I'm yet to see two old friends with no quirks.
A mortal man faultless still? Holy bull! ,
A perfect mind and heart in perfect flesh,
Ideal like a statue icily dull,
Lifeless perfection seems a virtual trash.
If a thing of art has to be alive,
Forget the fault of faultless offering,
If there's no crack nor yet an opening,
Whence ye think a ray of light would arrive?
I love you dear as ye ever have been,
To think of perfect you, to me is mean.
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Sonnets | 07.08.18 |
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