You have freckles where he didn't.
And your eyes light up when you talk
Where his always seemed dead.
Your hands are warm and calloused,
Not skeletal; not frozen.
And you are soft, you are safe,
Not sharp angles and bones.
You hold me like you want to
Like you enjoy having me near,
You don't just hold me because I'm there
Until someone better comes along.
I get butterflies when you take my hand,
Oh so casually running your thumb along my wrist.
I never had butterflies with him
And I never thought of him
-randomly, out of the blue-
And smiled because of him
-because he was in my mind-
But you pop up out of nowhere
Making me smile so brightly
My cheeks ache
Because I can see you in such perfect detail
(I can't even remember the colour of his eyes).
You are not him
You are so much more
You never pretend
You are not someone other than who you make me think
You kiss my head
You make me laugh
And I think
I could truly fall in love with you
And all your freckles.
©The Last Letter