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Though the walls to your heart are high i would climb them if but for a chance to feel your breath on my face as i looked into the gems that are your eyes. For which Frank Sinatra once its witch craft a thou you may think little of yourself. I would find no art, song or collection that compared to you and find solace in that. But I would use my words to write and describe you they would fall short as nothing I could take to scribe would be sufficient. Not even the stars could outshine the brightest of your soul. For which your. smile bright as the sun lands on my face as if it were a kiss.