Smile

I barely remember the first time
you sang "You are my Sunshine" to me (my memory is a broken camera),
But I remember perfectly this morning.
I became your good morning kisses.

The evening before you stressed out
Over your curtains.
You said they weren't the way
They were suppose to be,
But to me they were perfect.

You gave me that iron smile,
The one that suggests you have a secret
World hidden behind your teeth.
I didn't mind the wrinkle that
Stayed behind on your cheek.

I could still smell a hint of
Menthol left from your shave.
I had to krinkle my nose,
But it made me want to kiss your
Soft, honeydew cheeks.

You insisted we drive down to the coffee shop
For a bubble tea.  You wanted a bubble tea.
I giggled just a bit when you had to explain
The wonders of tapioca.

When we got back is when you wanted coffee.
I laughed at the absurdity, but watched you
Shove a cup of old coffee in the microwave.
I choked on my tongue, but I swept behind you
For a hug to show you I don't mind your imperfections.

I insisted on a shower,
But you pulled me back down onto a cloud
Before I got a chance.
You showed me what I had forgotten.

I heard you snoring a bit this morning,
But I didn't mind.
I went right back to my Dream World,
Even though reality has become dreamy itself.

I hear you running the water for your morning brush,
And I wish desperately that I could be your reflection.
I would say, "You are beautiful."
I understand that secret world you've been keeping now.
I don't want to leave it.
Could you just keep that smile?