What is perfection?

Is perfection having no flaws?

But flaws make us who we are. If we were not who we are, if we were not anything, would we be perfect? Could nothing be perfect?

Or is perfection what everyone else considers to be perfect? But then they would all be jealous of you, and jealousy isn’t perfect, is it?

Or is perfection being just right for one person

having the ability to make them happier than anything else in the world

could?

Is perfection being able to read a poem to someone without any fear?

Is perfection more than beauty

more than smiles or laughs

more than love?

Could perfection be just being?

Perhaps perfection does not, cannot exist

But actually, I think this, being here, is enough.