he had the fashion sense of a car dealership owner,
the stride of a rich man
but the sitting posture of a poor one
and he wore his hair plain,
slicked it back with water on holidays,
kept his wallet in his right front pocket
and his phone in his back left
because otherwise, he felt
unbalanced.

he never wore a watch
but he'd glance at his wrist
when he was nervous,
and when he was lying,
his voice would get deeper,
low to the ground
like heavy mist on rainy days
and he didn't have to see you in the morning
to tell you how beautiful you were.

the ideal man had so many
ticks, quirks, and knickknacks
that no two compliments he received
were the same,
and fifteen minutes in a room with him
and everyone would tell him he'd make a
great father.