Sunshine

Is it the creamy skin of the back of the neck?

Is it the sharp jawline?

Is it the slight smudge of kajal?

Or is it the long lashes that flutter over nut brown eyes?

Is it the pixie nose?

Is it the freckles on the side of one porcelain cheek?

Is it the curls that fly out of the pencil poked into the strict bun?

Or is it the lips that are constantly chewed before a response comes tumbling out?

Is it the pain in the lilting voice that creeps in when we talk of the less fortunate?

Is it the smile that lurks just under the surface, ready to break out at the slightest notice?

Is it the tender hands that fly around trying to keep up with the words that tumble out uncontrollably?

Or is the excitement that emanates from her person when the dogs swarm around for love?

What one thing is it that I love about her?

What is it that keeps me enslaved to her?

This girl. This woman. 

This sorceress. This enchantress. 

She holds my heart in the palm of her tender hands without ever knowing that it lies there, hers to hold and hurt and cherish and love. 

Then I realize. 

It is not one thing, not one single reason.

It is the sunshine she brings into my life.

I’m addicted to it. 

Selfish as that is, I’m glad, thankful to have some sunshine in my life. 

Sunshine that makes me a better man, sunshine that makes me want to be a better man. 

P.S: Love should not change you. It should make you want to be better.