Day 49

I am a man of many smiles.

Their number is as great as the many joys I've felt

Some, like ear shape or eye colour, were inherited.

Others have been manufactured: extra mortar to support well crafted facades.

Some are small, so you must get close to see them.

Some are so large, you need to step back just to glean them.

Some glow in the dark, so are lost in light of day.

Some smiles are secrets, caught only by code breakers and childhood friends.

Some aren't even smiles, really. They're just menace and mischief doing a good impression.

Some smiles are rusty; they haven't had much need to make appearance. But they're still there, if ever I need them.

Some smiles are gone, lost to time and innocence lost.

... and then there's that smile.

It's a limited print in the library of my contentment.

It's yours.

Because you're the only one who makes it happen.

Whether in meeting, passing or even remembering; this smile truly belongs to you.

And I thank you for letting it reside, on my dumb mug.