At My Most Beautiful by Michael Stipe

I've found a way
A way to make you smile
I read bad poetry
Into your machine
I save your messages
Just to hear your voice
You always listen carefully
To awkward rhymes
You always say your name,
Like I wouldn't know it's you,
At your most beautiful

At my most beautiful
I count your eyelashes, secretly
With every one, whisper I love you
I let you sleep
I know you're closed eye watching me,
Listening
I thought I saw a smile