The music that flows from your instruments overwhelms me with creativity. What wonderful vibrations you are capable of. Your beauty is multiplexed in contemplation of your multidimensional effervescence. You ever remind me of the enigma of happy thoughts I once forgot. If I could have just one wish, it would be to wake up to your songs in the morning. Panoramic aromavision is the future. I relentlessly desire cotton candy lollipops. Your eyes show as many deep and full shades of fire as a thousand supernovas. I find your eyes to be a wondrous amusement park filled with neo-plastic pleasures and turkish delights. You have not yet reached the height of your creativity. The elves that play in the toasters wash their drum sticks in honey and sing strikingly colored anthems in perfect harmonious pleasure. You are dressed with filaments and people take pains to make you fully incandescent this evening. Your beauty is equal to the smoothness of a polished gem. Wood nymphs sprinkle your path with rose petals while you dance and prowl in the sequined moonlight with leftover cupcake sprinkles.