Beautiful It Was

“Come on,” I gestured towards the back of the stoned wall cafe.

Your hand hesitated, hovering close to mine.

For a second, I felt the impulse to reach for your hand. 

Too soon you were moving forward through the quirky coffee shop.

“This one,” I smiled up at it, suddenly able to smell your shampoo. 

I followed close behind you towards a framed photo hanging on the center of the wall.

It was a black and white, wired statue of a woman with open arms and sunlight beaming through. 

You asked if it I thought it was beautiful.

You didn’t answer.

It was nearly impossible to look away from you.

When I turned towards you, your eyes weren’t on the picture. They were on me. 

Then you were looking back at me.

Your lips were so close. 

My fingers touched the bottom of your hair, wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

You were touching my hair and it was hard to breathe. 

Eyes closed, I kissed you.

With chapped lips and a heart beating too fast, I kissed you back. 

You sighed as you sort of stumbled, or melted, into me.

I felt you smile, and it made me smile too.

I didn’t think something so simple could be so wonderful.

I gripped your shirt, needing something to keep me steady. 

Even if those few seconds lasted a lifetime, it wouldn’t be enough.

You pulled away, eyes opening, and that dimpled smile plastered on your face

You asked me if it was beautiful.

Beautiful it was.

*Photo Credit* 


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