The Second Smile

I didn’t fall for you the first time you smiled.

I fell for the second one—

the one you only gave when you felt safe,

when your guard slipped,

when your heart let a little light escape.

That was the moment the world stopped pretending

and everything real began.

I’ve loved you from that hidden place ever since.

There’s a quiet kind of glow you carry,

the kind sunlight tries to imitate.

Every time you opened your heart to me

it felt like watching heaven learn to breathe.

And even though I lost my way with you,

my soul still knows the path by memory;

every step is carved in something true.

If you ever offer me that second smile again,

I’ll hold it like a promise I’ll never break.

I’ll learn every corner of your heart like a sacred place

and love you deeper than every word I never said.

You’re the quiet I’ve been searching for,

the home behind every door.

If you ever give me that second smile again,

I’ll never let the moment fade.

I still dream of the way you looked at me

when you didn’t know I was watching—

soft, hopeful, almost praying

that I’d be the man your heart could lean against.

I wasn’t then.

But loving you has shaped me into someone

who’s willing to be.

Your love was a quiet language,

one I only learned the alphabet of

before the chapters closed.

But if you ever let me read you again,

I’ll treasure every line

like scripture written on my ribs.

If you ever offer me that second smile again,

I’ll steady every trembling part of you with mine.

And if forever is a door you open slowly,

I’ll be waiting on the other side.

Because that second smile

was the first time

I ever felt truly seen.