I love looking at you like someone who needs to breathe; there's something about you that invades, that stirs, that disarms—a brilliance that doesn't ask permission, and a way that remains even when you're gone. Looking at you isn't a distraction, it's an impact, it's feeling my heart race without warning, it's losing focus on the world for a few seconds. Your beauty doesn't fade, it leaves a mark, it settles in, and the more I look, the more I understand. It's not just desire, it's fascination.