You are beautiful.
Like a soft twinkle in the blackness,
Like a rose petal in the mud,
Like a single flame in a snowy cave,
Oh my gosh, how you shine.
"But above all, I wish you love."
You taught me the meaning of an embrace,
The power of one deliberate glance,
and how to see beauty in the ugliest of places.
Your heart is so big sometimes.
I'm worried it will explode.
But if it did, it would be something like this:
A brilliant confetti of golds and reds,
Showering and shining
Like goldfish scales and pearls.
A sparkling myriad of color and light,
And beauty so great we'd all be blinded.
(We'd live better that way, anyway—"Why can't we just judge each other for our souls?")
You are not a doormat,
Or even a doorway,
But an ornate portico,
With sunshine searing through its columns
And thick marble floors,
And aged leather couches
Sitting next to tall stacks of books
On oak sidetables with coffee mug-rings.
You are wonderful, welcoming
You are my hero, my friend, my sister
You are a blessing.
Thank you for your love,
Thank you for your life.
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