Cherishing

I was blessed with big blue eyes
that are more like sky than water,
more like love than bitter,
less like a well than a mirror.

I was blessed with legs like birch trees
peeling and long and lean
Echoing with sounds of places I've been
and the sound of drifting leaves.

And you were blessed with a crooked mouth,
leaning and pulling to one side
you fill my heart with the smiles you throw
haphazardly into my blue eyes.

I was blessed with a mane of golden spun hair,
a mane to keep me warm in winter
and arms to keep you loved.

Your friends were young, and
you were beautiful and not.
Despite the growing cold in the back
of your throat, your voice would appear
sometimes,
solely to stun them.

And though your grin is wide and warm,
your mouth is small and unforgiving,
though as I speak I can tell
that it is me your heart is cherishing.