The tiny apparatus beneath my tongue,
The one that forms a phrase,
and gives me strength to speak it,
Disappeared whenever I saw him.
Words – once friends, companions,
His face, so striking,
It rendered me speechless.
His beauty – erased every eloquent phrase
From my memory.
And it wasn’t like he was this crazybeautifulperfection,
It’s just that
He was this crazybeautifulperfection
Just a regular guy,
You caught him looking at you
with love in his eyes,
Or captured sparkles of amusement
Which shone from their fathomless depths.
Dear god that smile.
White and inviting,
A crescent moon formed just for me.
Waiting for a kiss.
I remember the laughter.
Voice soft like velvet is soft
And when he was lost in the mirth,
He was a picture
I ached to paint.
Preserve on paper,
But my skills fell short,
That spontaneous image.
He had them.
But they were the sort that every rose bush has.
Thorns come with beauty, sometimes.
But I don’t know many who forbid the rose bush a home
in their garden.
And I wanted him
The very fragrance of him.
I wanted to wake near him,
and live near him,
And breathe him in,