Like tiny cracks in the cement that spill out on the sidewalk  her smile.
Like chinks in these metal plates reminding me of here intentionally placed flaws.
She is a melody of unforgettable lullabies that sing me to sleep.
Or usher me to greatness.
And I'll never forget her small nods to nothingness that are behavioral, habitual, silently eloquent beauty.
Her hand gestures that splatter on paper like ink.
Violently she covers her face when she's shy like the waves covering the ocean floor.
And her mysteries speak louder than the voices in my head.
That's why when she speaks all I can ever think about is her attention.
Swooning
Lashing out like a child who can't get a second glance on his elementary crush as he moves cities.
I just wish I could move into her heart.
Because her simple nods of beauty.
Her simple eyelashes that quiver when surfaced against her cheeks.
I'm not awestruck.
I'm awe stuck.
Its not her beauty on her skin.
But the beauty that lies within.
And she wears these emotions like a cursive tattoo on her skin.
I'm in love with the simple gestures and habits she may think are natural for everyone else.
Because her small beauties.
Are what makes her most beautiful to me.  

Make my heart warm again.