From Where I Stand, your face catches the sunbeams at the right moment.
Your eyes twinkle as the light ripples your eyes into tiny balls of mirth.
Your hair looks like wind caught it at the right moment and sent waves of sun-flecked wisdom through its strands
Your chocolate-shaped home which lingers long
Love looks like it met you in the freckles which adorn your skin
Love looks like it sent demure joy when it tempered your eyes with sullied joy
Love look like your tender fingers caught in paper-like tendrils
Love looks like your paper heart bewitched by the September breeze
Your face crumples and the tears cause dainty pearls to wither
here in my hands, where they look best.