The velvet touch

I loved how you were selfconscious
You complained your teeth were not
white enough.
but I would write love poems
about the warmth
that fell from your smile
like purest sunlight.
I could rest in your smile
for hours.

I loved your eyes
deep and dark
like drowning pools.
I would keep my eyes open
as we kissed
to look into heaven
just for a moment.

I loved your gentleness
how you touched me so softly
as though I would break
like a fragile eggshell.

What I did not know
was you were a writer as well
and when you left
you had written poetry
all over my body
but it was not written
with your fingertips
but indellibly
like the needle
of a tatoo artist.