There was something more
in your eyes
the way you looked back at me,
with the rain
gently falling,
and the wind
softly calling.

There was something more,
with your sweet disposition
and my wide-eyed gaze,
the smell of coffee
and its steam clouded in the air,
your jokes who never failed,
and a new company,
the way you offered your shirt
and your worried eyes.

There was something more,
but whatever it was
made the butterflies in my stomach
dance in a way
they have never danced before.

And for a moment,
I was okay;


I was happy again.