His smile makes me smile.
I smile at the wrinkles in his forehead when he gets excited, confused, or scared.
When sunlight floods into his deep green eyes,
I enter a forest and I get lost in the trees.
I smile as he reaches for me in the most ordinary places.
Our hands fit like adjacent puzzle pieces hinge together.
The light touch followed by a firm grasp,
I hope to never let go.
Every kiss injects both adrenaline and serotonin.
The simultaneous energy and calm flow through my body
and the world disappears.
I smile as he looks at me when he lets me rant and rave.
When I sing in the car, he just sits there and shakes his head;
but he smiles with this look of wonder, like
"how could I get so lucky? ".
I smile when he picks a restaurant because he tries to guess my choice
but I wonder if he knows that all I want
is to go wherever he goes.
I smile when he dances in my kitchen to the eclectic mix on the radio.
He uses wooden spoons as drumsticks
and he spins in his socks.
He doesn't know I envy his zeal.
I remember what life was like without him—I smiled and I laughed before.
I know I can do this on my own