Oh, what the sight of you does to me.
The lines of your face, the little wrinkles,
The hint of gray, and the dimples.
Each tells a story of your past, our past.
The moments of our lives, the little smiles,
The hints of pain, and the love.
It is moments like this, which make the moments of hell bearable.
It is moments of peace before the moments of fury.
It is these moments that I allow myself to love you.
It is these moments I live for.
