[ found on a price tag for a toy ]

roses are red,

violets are blue,

please look up,

I have something

for you.

—Charlie

And as you looked up and reached

for the balloon, your fingertips

grazed the edges of the little

drawing hanging loosely by a thread;

there was this...smile on your face.

A catharsis rung throughout the

tree, crawling through it's empty

veins of blood and springing

down to my feet. I realized that

a person is oblivious to their

own smile.

I am oblivious to my own smiles.

When you spend your seconds trying

to stir a bowl of emblems that bring

smiles, you forget how to smile

yourself—

always busy wondering

if you scar the empty sky with

loosened dreams; or if you're

just an open book whose letters

keep falling out.

Or if you're just

a bottle who has cracked open

shards of sins.

And when I saw a smile

on your pink lips, happiness covered

all sequence of argument—

an argument that states

everyone is oblivious

to their smiles—for I brought

my fingertips to my mouth

and traced the edges of an upside

down frown.

Thanks for making me

smile, love.

I needed it.