Him
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?