she told me to write a happy poem, so i wrote one about her

it had been months since

i had seen such warm eyes

eyes so intriguing

so welcoming

it had been so many

in fact

i had sworn to myself

i would never see such eyes again

i would never fall in love again.

and then i met her.

warm eyes staring down over melted chocolate

once separate hands discovering

the essence of teamwork

and i swear i saw our fingertips

start to shift to the colors

of the other's

tan and pale melting to find a middle ground

calloused and soft

each finding out what it is like

to work hard

and to love gently.

her voice was soft

deep

you wouldn't imagine you could ever hear something

that sounded so beautiful

so much like home

so much like fresh coffee on a saturday morning,

and then you looked back up at her.

her fingers

their likeness to mine slowly starting to fade

wove between the metal strings

i hoped one day i could play like her

but there are some things simply meant

for viewing

for admiring

some things you must learn to understand

can never be touched

never be reached

and i found comfort in that

in her.