I saw your smile and

I began to rise like newborn bubbles
in a freshly opened champaign bottle,
like the kind you see with a couple
intertwined in white lace and a black tie
walking out of a church.

I saw your smile and

I wanted to play those blinding white piano keys
attached to your gums that play
the soundtrack to my summer
harmonizing with the thoughts
playing hide and seek in our heads
as we shared our first kiss.

I saw your smile and

I forgot how to breathe like
when you kidnapped my breath
that was suppose to fill the silence
after we kissed but our stare
was powerful enough to break open
the gates of heaven before
St. peter could even inspect our adolescent hands.  

I saw your smile and

I was finally okay with you
whispering her name after your murderous words
"I love you" because I knew
you were now happy since me.