Some Little Happiness
knows our names
and where we live
and sets out to meet us halfway.
It arrives humming,
an enchantment of tones
we have never heard
and don't want to let go,
because we know
they will never be heard again.
some little happiness lives
in our eyes, in our skin,
leaves a trace in the lines
around our tired mouths.
Some little happiness.
We don't have to deserve it,
we don't have to expect it,
we don't even have to admit
how much we need it,
and some little happiness
will rest its hand on our hands,
will tell us, Take me,
I won't be here that long,
and neither will you.
It's okay, whispers
some little happiness,
trust me.
And we do.
Thomas Centolella
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