Poem for Amanda (Neil Gaiman)

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For I shall enumerate my ladies charms although they are numberless.

For firstly, she has a smile like a beam of sunlight breaking through a cloud in a medieval painting.

For secondly, she moves like mercury and panthers, and also, she can stand still.

For thirdly, she has eyes of a color that no two people can agree on which I can remember when I close my eyes.

For fourthly, she laughs at my jokes, sings unconcerned on the sidewalk, and gives money to buskers as a religious act.

For fifthly, she fucks like wildcats in thunderstorms.

For sixthly, her kisses are gentle.

For seventhly, I would follow her or walk beside her or in front of her wherever she wished to go and being with her walk without fear.

For eighthly, I dream of her and am comforted.

For ninthly, there is no one like her... not that I've ever met, and I've met so many people... No one at all.

For lastly, she squeals when I say, "wastepaper basket." And also, in the mornings, eyebrow-less and waking, she always looks so perfectly surprised.