Smiling At Me

It has always been this way, since
we were children, and beyond. When
he faces me the contagion of pleasure
pervades our intimate atmosphere.
As our eyes move toward one another,
there it is, the warmth of his smile,
generously flooding his face and
unfailingly touching my heart.

Lest we forget. That none is nearer
nor dearer, the reflex as familiar as
seeing one's own face mirrored. I exist,
therefore you are. I am here, and close
beside me, you are too, precisely
where you belong. Close by me, to share
any given moment; close to touch,
to grasp and to clasp as near to our
beating hearts as space and place.

That smile beams toward me, warming
my soul, bringing the urgency of love
to bear at every possible hour of our
days. The fulfillment of our shared lives,
expressed in that smile exuding care and
treasured love. Sometimes, the smile is
not enough, and a deeply prolonged hug
must elaborate the soul's compact.