The Gift

Always grew layers of slime
Around my attitude.
This male species
On the earth,
Is good for nothing.
I gathered this muck
Since
I forget to remember.

Then I met him,
His crystal clear
Jet black eyes,
Staring into mine.
Without threatening me,
Just staring.

I felt his petal soft
Warm gaze,
On my face.
It seems
Some of the ice,
Around my heart is,
melting.

His touch was
Not fake,
Absolutely unadulterated.
Always rubs away
Some of the layers,
Of my slimy stance.

His smile always
Reaches his eyes,
Never dries up around the corners
Of his lips.

His embrace,
Hauls out an assurance,
He will always need me
In his life.

His embrace
Murmurs,
Even when your own
Shadow leaves you,
You can always
Count on me.

My sister in law
Worries on my each birthday,
What gift she should
Bought for me.
I fail to convince her
She has already presented me,
The gift of my life
My nephew.