I do

I love his smile.

If he could shrink, he would be my charm.

I can’t help peeking at his photo every wake and down time.

I smiled, staring at his most recent photo. It is my favorite, one of my favorites from his album.

I never knew there was an existing accessory I would acknowledge to a person.

And it's him, his smile.

I wonder how many hours and steps he made in a day, how many hours he slept, and how many things were running on his head.

Seems lighter like his smile.

Seem brighter than our teacher’s lesson.

If I am to vote for an art piece, I will side with him and approve his stunts to be displayed in a museum, my museum.

Such beauty belongs to his

How dream, I rarely witnessed him smile, why?

If he could only smile more, if he could only… be happy.

I want to make him happy… I don't want to count anymore.

From a distance, I don't want to measure.

From his pictures, I don't want any cutouts of him just to be close to me anymore.

Everyday, I will do a favor, the favor, of wanting to start, wanting to initiate the closure.

A prey in need of access, I am to contour.

Posted on @deintywoodtales (dada on tumblr)

dada