he is beautiful to me
with his ink stained hands,
hair going a million different ways

hunched over a small book
a pen between his fingers
drumming the table while
bouncing his leg in time

those ocean blue eyes
pouring over the words
making sure they are just so

he scribbles frantically
crossing out sections as he goes
and writing in more

he is lost in a whole other world
consumed by the characters in his mind
that take him to a place only he can see

but when he looks up at me
and the world fades back in
the smile on his face puts one on mine
making me fall in love all over again