I fell not for the smile nor the laugh,
nor for the wrinkled forehead of concentration
I fell for the wind and the sound of rivers
for the sparrow scavenging for its food
twas not his eyes nor his lips
though I am still unable to pry my gaze from them
twas not for his scent nor his taste
though they still hover, cloud-like, about me
twas the smell of freshly rained out streets
with the sin and the dirt purged away for a moment
twas the sky filled with fast moving clouds
making the shadows dance and the light shift
I fell not for his looks, nor charm, nor humour
I fell for the world, and what he made mine become.
I hope to re-introduce myself to the community with this.