I could write novels on his laugh alone

And all the varieties it comes in,

One for each of his personas.

But I've chosen a favorite,

The one that rings in my ears

And creeps into my head,

Forcing a smile out of me

That I didn't know I possessed.

This laugh is surprise and pleasure and lust and innocence all rolled into one.

To make him laugh in this way

Is to have some power over the Heavens.

It creates the slightest softness in his smile,

Reveals something unexpected about him.

He is suddenly much younger,

Much more trusting of seemingly everything.

That laugh is the only genuine artifact

I may ever encounter.

There are few treasures in this world

I would rather have.