he wanted to kiss her nose, in the most adoring of ways.
without a ridge, and perfectly straight, she often scrunched it,
wrinkled it,
rubbed the very end of it,
and he was sure that no nose was as perfect as her nose.
freckles dotted the bridge of it,
and were spread over the tip,
as if someone had dipped a brush in a light honey brown paint
and flicked it at her,
splattering her nose with the freckles he so admired.
