Lacking nothing, complete of its kind
Pure, undiluted all of this combined.
Is this where the search for perfect would end?
Or maybe a little more time on this we have to spend.
The perfect job, house, friend or lover, this collection,
Will soon fade into a state of imperfection
Perfect doesn't exist in a static state.
Perfect is a constant journey forever seeking an update.
Perfect is the experience of a single moment in time.
Perfectly remembered as a moment simply sublime
Holding this forever in your mind, never evolving
Never growing never dissolving
Every encounter tells the story of our lives.
You will know as soon as it arrives.
Every moment imprinted in the shape of a picture.
Filling our books blank pages with a perfect mixture
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem