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.

┬ęThe Last Letter