connecting his dots

The first time I met him, the stars weren’t aligned. But the warmth of his tones amidst the chills tickling my already sweater-clad body ignited my hope for a shooting star.

It never came until one chance encounter in the cafeteria.

Rays of bliss shone through large glass windows, filling the glum and empty spaces in-between his bushy eyebrows. He seemed deep in thought, almost like a dark, starless night.

The first time I met him, the image of a perfect constellation invaded my plain perspective on landscapes.

But I got fooled.

For behind those gleaming eyes and almost shy smiles are overlooked sunsets and seasons.

And besides the rainbows in his deep eyes,

I’d be willing to dance in the storms that come before.