I met you.
you walked in, perfect sense of style and classy phone
your big beard didn't make sense to others but did to me
it seemed to make you so male and perfect and I liked that.
I didn't see you as perfect, I just saw you as mine possible.
the kind of attraction didn't make sense to me either
I cannot point out what I loved most about you.
I just loved you with a love so gentle, perfect and innocent.
I think I'm over you until I remember you and sometimes it feels like I will always be gripped.

I met him.
He walked through the corridor.
with his hat on, full jumper, jeans and African print back pack.
he looked perfect in his shorts...had your sense of style.
but most importantly, he had your beard.
then he removed his sweater and showed his tattoos.
he smoked like a chimney and drunk enough not to get high.
I always hated the smell of cigarettes until I met him
maybe it was the way the smoke mixed up with his cologne.
giving him his unique scent that I hold onto on a t shirt in my closet.
I couldn't wash it in case I lost that scent, so I just kept it.
one meeting, many hugs, one kiss one night....
and he was gone too.... forever

I met you through another
its what I tell my self because I cannot seem to forget you both
the guys with the beard.
you made me look at beards different.
he added tattoos and cigarettes to the list.....

I miss you both.