Relativity

All I know is that someday
It will all have gone away:
Imperfect from the start
To the final beat of my heart.

In all this flawlessness
You only left a mole on your chest.
Your perfectly round breasts...
All of what is, in fact, a mess.

Your body talks in pictures
Showing all your beautiful features.
You're somewhat mysterious
And I'm a little bit curious.

And all that was once in bloom
Now it's whispering the truth:
All may come for a second,
Soon to be an hour, I reckon.