He Never Let Her Go.

Cute people in love.

He glanced at her and smiled;
it was lopsided and lazy,
and his skin was milky cream.
The hair on his head
was the color of charcoal dust,
and his eyes were melted chocolate.
He was the sun to her morning.
A blush bloomed upon her frail face
and she glanced at the floor.
Shy, cowardly, nervous, anxious
love pooled in her chest.
It bled from her eyes
as she fiddled her laced fingers
behind her skinny twig back.
Her feet curled in;
he noticed, and his sweet expression
softened into understanding.
He reached his hand out firmly
beneath her bowed gaze,
and when she saw the tips of his fingers
her heart brushed against the surface
of her ribs, as it skipped.
Hesitantly she reached her own hand out
and placed her palm in his.
He pulled her into his grasp,
hugged her close,
and never let her go.