Josiah shrugged. "What do I know about poetry? Not much." Josiah looked down and realized he was still holding onto Dasia's hand. "I know you carry it. I know you wear the sun as a smile, filling everyone with warmth wherever you may go. Your eyes tell stories that could touch the heinous of all souls. Your voice is heavenly, like the sound of angels, and your scent is sweet, like fresh mangoes coated in chocolate and dipped in honey. I see you...