Your face was sprinkled with red pepper freckles
Maybe, just maybe, they were the echoes of pimples
Bursts of memory that make you laugh and scrunch
Your nose, stare at the ground. Cheeks grow redder.
I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter.
Your smile was like a bird with one wing
That could still fly, and sing a thank you
To the sprinting wind. Are we racing?
It was imperfect, but it gave me
A reason brighter than squinting sunlight
To open my eyes in the morning.