The first time, you raised a question and I lost touch with my chords in a bid to give an introduction.
You don’t know who I am yet.
Then came subtle kisses and holding of hands. For a minute in a sec, I thought it was pretty but
pretty is not as good. It was beautiful.
Your eyes always made gestures as if your brows were dancing on a work free day. Your smile
captures the very essence of the fine lines, reminds me every time I look at the mirror, it is not
my reflection I see.
I see a very sweet sweet man whose full eyebrows helps me raise the questions, ‘what would it
be?” and “who is he?”