The most beautiful thing about her wasn't her eyes a shade of dark blue, her auburn hair that met her shoulders, or even the smile that traced her lips in the darkest nights
Her beauty was in the steady rise and fall of her chest as her lungs breathed in and out
every second she lived with a gentle grace that even the lull of the analog clock couldn't compare
At some point she became all I could relate happiness to
and when I lost her I mourned through my sadness, my confusion
I realized my world now dark and dreary lost its sense of beauty
Honestly I was sitting down and had my hand over my chest and I started thinking about how our hearts beat making our chest rise and fall.. and well that's what inspired this aha