Your skin, flawless and unblemished makes Venus retreat (blushing) into her clam; your eyes make Andromeda step down from the sky and bring her stars; Rapunzel will never let down her hair again. Helen was the face that launched a thousand ships to sea; yours could launch a a hundred thousand ships into the heavens.
The sonnets of Shakespeare do you no justice, nor do the poems of Keats or Coleridge. “Indescribable” as a word perhaps comes close, but as of yet the Oxford English Dictionary is little use when it comes to painting a picture. Perchance one of the great artists then? On second thoughts it is probably not a good idea: Van Gogh gave his ear for love, but on painting you he would have nothing left to give…and anyhow, a picture is only worth a thousand words, when ten times that is needed to adequately describe but a fraction of your magnificence.
Music might be up to the task, after all it is a harmony of the spheres, so you share a common bond. However, any sound can be music, and the border between music and noise is culturally defined – you, my love, are beautiful in every culture, every place, everywhere.
Just as your beauty transcends cultures, so does it surpass the earth, the galaxy, the universe. I am running out of superlatives, and yet I am still left wanting in this description.
As to Romeo you are my Juliet, as to Mark my Cleopatra, as to Orpheus my Eurydice, as to Odysseus my Penelope.
BUT: the object of my affections? I can only hope to be yours, for a day, for a year, for forever and for after.