The way your lips curled upward,
a crease on either side of your cheeks.
Points reaching peaks, your face is a graph.
My eyes; the led and each darting movement of your expression is chased by my pencil and the mood changed, weather splits and each unit of your skin marked by freckles and weathered scars.
I refer back to the notes i had taken on smiles previous to yours.
and although pages are filled, none of them explain how to graph your peaks and values.
your unlike any other, freckled points never moving and each of my coordinates remain steady on your sheet of skin.
