With fondness, my eyes remember…
as if it were yesterday…
waking at the crack of dawn,
walking in the dew with my thoughts,
slowly inhaling the aroma of wildflowers,
and sipping on the scents of crisp morning air.
I can still feel the warm, relaxing breeze like a smile,
hastening to embrace me with hugs.
It was love…
my first true love.
Occasionally, I still hunger for the severed comforts of home.
And race to reprimand the distance for stealing that familiar delicate, oneiric smile;
pure, undemanding, and innocent, like a child’s heart or a mother’s kiss.
With longing, my mind recalls
the affectionate, nurturing smile.
And it preserves a likeness on the walls of my memory,
from where I watch you through the quiet windows of my eyes.
And, even though inaccessible,
your present absence radiates with the lush glow of dawn.
And that flawless smile still comforts me like a reassuring sunrise or a golden sunset.
It was indeed love,
my first true love.
Unsurprisingly, I keep listening for the lively footsteps of a smile, rushing to greet me.
But, alas! I can only repair
to the reservoirs of my mind
to catch glimpses of your face,
and to imagine the velvet touch
of soft, cheerful cheeks,
dancing beneath the tender gaze of fresh laughter.
Such is the warmth of those memories – they nourish my heart.
And, for brief moments at a time,
I feel restored.
For you were always love,
my first true love.