Why I Write, Part x+208: Her Smile

Her smile is in everything I write,

Most obviously when the words are bright,

But also, maybe especially, in the sad stuff,

When the memories are too much or not enough.

In truth, behind every smile is just a mouth;

Behind the smiles of the dead, a pool in which to drown,

But even in deepest despair, I remember her greatest talent:

Pulling a smiling tarp over her heart's pool of sadness,

and as my writing brings satisfaction at the end,

I may even have surpassed her, in that one respect.