Till I met you,
I made my own smiles.
But you drew new lines
at the corner of my eyes.  
Each bear your name,
and surprisingly enough,
I don’t mind.
Vain as I am,
it’s been worth it.

Till I met you,
age was a number
just marking the passage of time.
Now I’m acutely aware
each moment you aren’t here.
And how every new day
is one less.

So I let go of the fear
you won’t always be near,
and I’ll pray for an after-life.
One large enough for two
with different points of view
about a heavenly creator.