How do you exactly describe beauty’s perfection?

Is it how the person’s face is structured, or how well the person wears his clothes, or how he stands with confidence?

The first time it showed itself to me was in the form of a man, he had golden skin and a pair of wings. The wings were an epitome of sinful purity, only in the color of black. It glowed, deliciously complementing the gold skin the being had as it stared at me with chocolate brown eyes. I wanted to look away, because the glow the being had was too overwhelming it was starting to burn my eyes, but I was too breathless to move a muscle that my mind drew a complete blank as I stared back, losing myself in a brown abyss. There are times though, when I’m feeling a bit more courageous and tried to reach out and touch him because the black wings looked too soft to resist, or to take a risky step forward and challenge how far I could go before the glorious glow finally blinds me enough for me to close my eyes.

Every single time I do though, my eyes snap open and I am left staring at the boring ceiling of my room, breathless and eyes burning without knowing why. Because the more I try to remember every detail of the dream I had, the more I am left with nothing but a clear image of black wings gloriously spread out and a pair of sorrowful brown eyes looking at me. I’ve tried to wonder why and solve the brown puzzle that’s haunted my every single dream, but as empty as the color of those pair of