I traced the line of your lips
with my finger,
I touched your cheek.
That was all it took, really —
that kind of attention
calls forth affection
as if out of nowhere

I smile. You are not sure —
you really hope to believe it
but I have been less than warm
for longer than I’d noticed.

So you’ll look again
with that hope in your eyes,
hope for this smile,
which, really,
how could I have withheld it?

©Wendy Mulhern
April 15, 2016