Fri, 09/26/2014 - 10:13 -- otnemem

His eyes were an icy sea,

glistening brightly,

always welcoming.


His eyes were always filled with excitment,

always filled with happiness,

and I couldn't help wondering how I could do that.


How could I warm the icy sea,

how could I cause that wonderful smile?


His hands were constantly moving,

his fingers were squarish and stubby, 

but I loved every second that they were intertwined with mine.


His fingers would tap out a guitar solo,

or the drum beat of a song,

or the beating of my heart when he was close enough to hear it.


He had a small mark on the right side of his nose,

a birthmark, I suppose,

and I had memorized it.


His smile was sunshine,

pure sunshine that appeared on his face

and shone right onto mine.


I told him how beautiful his smile was,

and he said no one had ever told him that before

because he didn't smile often.


He always smiled around me.


So if I don't seem quite the same,

if I don't seem quite as happy,

it's because I miss his ray of sunshine smile

and his little icy sea he carried in his eyes

and his stubby, squarish fingers.

I even miss his little birthmark.


I'm trying so hard to forget

but how can you forget the warmth of the sun?


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