words are just all the birds,

i loved him, though at the time didn't know what that meant.
he was my best friend, and he was beautiful.
His eyes were like planets,
alive with life and the color of liquid mahogany
but sparkled like every star in the sky.
his scent was sweet like southern hospitality
and his skin was as soft as the fresh gardenias that grow in my mothers garden,
and as warm as a summer day.
he had my fathers hands. strong and rough. but oh so gentle.
every time i was around him i immediately felt at home...