The Smile

His eyes, are a stormy sea

His skin comforting milk

His arms, chainmail

His heart like a bonfire on a freezing night;

But his smile, his smile was the fishhook

I tread those dangerous waters, without a care for my own life

And I drank that milk knowing it was poison

I wore that chainmail into battle, with every hole and tear in it

And I warmed myself at that fire, standing so close it burned;

But I never expected that hook, until it pulled me to my death

Out of my safe waters, and into a world unknown, a place where the rush of adrenaline was dizzying and exciting, until I was overwrought, and saw only blackness. Nothing. Lost.

It was the Smile.