you

A stolen chance was taken and conversation was found. You, whom graced my presence with such a beauty and décor.

 

You, whose smile pierced my chest and shone light into my soul.

 

You, whose lips beckon,

 

“Kiss me.”

 

You, whom any man or woman for that matter would give an eye to have by their side has chosen me.

 

My insecurities scream there usual song and dance their same jig, but I quiet them.

 

It does not mater any more what I’m thinking or feeling you just said something; a little bit of nothing really, but whatever it was it made me laugh.

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2009