The taste of something new, something refreshing. Without fear that you'd be anything other than yourself. Sweet, giving. Hands wouldn't play apart of how much or how little you'd give As I'd be grateful you thought enough of me to present yourself the way you have.
Each morning she grants me the unique privilege of providing a smile on her face I know quite a bit about the simple things. To watch her walk in and delight herself with the croissant of open lips A splash or two of milk painting her smile. I just might have to bring her breakfast one day Just to return the favor