it’s always the little things.
it’s always the details.
it’s her smug smirk
or the way he grasps a pencil or
it’s his loud chuckle
or the way her eyes glimmer with a bright idea or
it’s his wide eyes
or the way she says your name.
you can feel her velvet lips
gently caressing proof of your existence.
she has demanded your allegiance
while knowing that it’s already her’s.
but if it’s always the little things
why are we always waiting for something big?
what are we waiting for?
each smile could say “I love you”
each blink could say “I care”
each word that spills from her careful, careful mouth
is an admission of guilt.