With eyes locked on and heart on her sleeve,

her smile grew like the budding spring trees.

She watched him, he who sat with fixation

in his work sprawled neatly chaotic in fornt of him.

Pencil in hand, gripped perfectly for

precision on pallid paper picked by the artist.

He sensed, focus now redirected, to the warm

cinnamon eyes that stared tenderly into his own.

Nothing wavered her gaze,

not the steam from the untouched coffee,

nor the grin widening at her lips,

not even the chatter, patter, disquietude of the coffee shop--

none of that mattered.

With his own sincere smile, he stared back.

All the while not a single word was spoken

yet every one was silently understood.

She admired the way he focused so earnestly that his

face would mimick that of the character he drew.

He cherished the patience she gace and serenity

he found in her presence.

She etched carefully

in her mind

his every detailed feature;

in her heart,

the way he made her feel,

made her laugh,

and all he'd taught her to see.

He thought of how everything they'd been through to reach

"Here"

and learn their similarites and despite their differences--

They Love.

 

- Joie Eglinger