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  Phyllis K.

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 The Perfect Man

Does the perfect man exist?
Oh yes, but only in my mind's eye.
He makes his subtle appearance
in the stillness of the night.
I close my eyes and hear a gentle whisper in my ear.
I feel his warm breath on my cheek.
His masculine scent is unmistakable,
causing my senses to respond wildly.
What makes my man perfect
cannot be seen with the naked eye.
It's his rare, intangible gifts
to which we all aspire,
but so often elude our grasp:
Kindness that could melt the heart
of a hardened criminal,
Compassion and generosity that weaken the defenses
and open the heart.
His integrity is disarming,
melting my protective walls,
allowing me total freedom,
dissolving the need for my impenetrable armour.
Is it possible that such a man exists
with my eyes wide open?
With guarded optimism,
I move through my daily routine,
aware that at any moment,
I could smell his familiar scent
or hear that soft whisper,
as he gently makes his welcomed appearance
into my real world,
happily restoring my faith in miracles.

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