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The magic in her eyes sparkled like jazz hands.

 

Something deep within my soul began to tap dance;

 

as the corners of her mouth leaped towards her cheeks,

 

with the grace of a ballerina her smile premiered like a split leap.

 

Mesmerized by her bespoken smile,

 

I was obliged to extend a smile.

 

She looked as if her chocolate skin had been sun-kissed with Hershey’s Kisses,

her countenance was such a treat.

 

Her eyes had their own language,

we never had to speak.

 

I adored her eyes;

I would say to myself “what a beautiful language to speak.”

 

We met every morning on the train,

 

I looked forward to her ballet performances,

every morning on the train.

 

We exchanged smiles everyday,

there was magic in her smile.

 

I never knew her name,

I just referred to her as Girl with a Smile.

 

Picasso had Girl with a Mandolin,

I had Girl with a Smile.

 

Remember to be happy,

you never know who’s falling in love with your smile.

 

–@StevieStreets | Girl with a Smile

 

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