I was trying to describe you to someone
a few days ago. You don't look like any
girl I've seen before.

I couldn't say: "Well, she looks just like Julia
Roberts except that she's got brown hair
and a smaller mouth and of course she's not
a movie star."

I couldn't say that because you don't look like Julia
Roberts at all.

I finally ended up describing you as the rock that sat
at the end of our yard in our old house. It was of a
smaller size, but big enough to sit on, and it stood alone
in the grassy yard.

The rock was always base in my childhood games. When I saw it,
it gave me a familiar calming feeling. When I reached the rock,
I had made it to safety.

That's how you look to me.