Sketches of smiles

Every time I made you smile, I sketched that.

Now, I’m looking back at my sketches of your smiles.

They are frozen on paper and I wonder why that brings a tear to my eye.

It's a snake

It was coiled beside me. Never moved. Knew it was there, but never gave it a thought or bothered it. I wouldn’t say that its presence petrified me...

Everyone else found that bizarre.

Now if I touch it, it may slither away in fear or just strike me… Either ways it’s a snake, and it would only end up hurting me. I’m not touching it.