The words are there--
Every dotted i, every crossed t
Punctuated, what seems so perfectly...
Staring back at me,
Waiting for affirmation
     and I can't give it just yet.
I'm looking perfection in the eye
Wondering if perfection is real,
Because I can't see it,
Right there,
In those words
In front of me
     and I'm searching still.
Waiting to find what already exists.