you learned
from a young age
that beauty
is measured
in three digit numbers.

my dear,
let me teach you
how to unlearn.

let me teach you
how to measure beauty in
scattered
strawberry blonde freckles.
in vibratos and
in beautifully spoken words.
in tears of laughter and
in moments of bravery.

let me teach you
that your two digits
are more than good enough,
and that your light shines
as bright as the moon

my dear,
i promise
on everything i have
that i love all 96 pounds of you.

As you lay back on the forest floor
You are graced
By a dim light
That glows through your blonde hairs,
Like a halo all around you.

You are an angel to me.

When you exhale,
A trail of smoke rises from your cracked lips
And dances through the trees,
Celebrating it's freedom
From your lungs.

You watch it fade out,
It's bittersweet scent
Still clinging to the air.

This
this isn't a sin.

This is heaven itself.

I find purpose
In the way your chest
Rises slower than it falls
And I find peace
Halfway past this moment and
An arms-length from the sun.