Girl of My Dreams

I saw her

The girl of my dreams

Standing in library

She looked up

Our eyes met

She glanced away

I blushed, hard

Redder than a rose

She blushed too

Delicately, like the sunrise

Soft butterflies became massive eagles

Tumbling 'round my insides

I walked over

Asked her how she is

She replied,

"Good."

I said,

"Good."

She looked down and asked,

"Would you like to get coffee sometime?"

I replied,

"Yes!"

A little too fast

A little too loud

She laughed

I didn't

The next day

We met at the library

Walked across the road

Got coffee

Talked for an hour or two

I learned that she's a nerd

She learned that I cry at times

She laughed

I didn't

We left

I saw her the next day

Our eyes met

I blushed, hard

But soft butterflies became quiet nothing

Peaceful in my mind

I handed her a book

It said,

"Who are you to make weapons

of my imperfections?

My imperfections are mine alone,

that I own and love and build into

My perfect self

So that they are not imperfections any longer

but perfect.

Then when I am perfect

to myself and to the world I make,

Then your weapons become impossible."

She laughed

I didn't

I walked away

She's not the girl of my dreams.