He sits there,
    cat on his lap
    who he is thoroughly petting,
with his laptop open
that I assume he is actually using to be productive.
Meanwhile I stare at him,
sneaking glances mostly,
trying to write this without spooking him.

I think him beautiful,
and I know you're not supposed to say that about men,
especially not a man who wears a beard
and gives off the refined lumberjack vibe,
but whatever.
He's got eyes like the sea,
a smile so wide it could crack open one of mine,
hands I forget myself in watching.

When turns those unfathomable depths on me,
when that heart so wonderful it has to be fueled by the divine
shines through and illuminates those simple irises,
I am lost.

Little bits of my heart
flake off and fly to him
as leaves fall from trees to gather on the surface of the lake
and slowly slip beneath the water.