She smiles,
and in that moment, the world feels lighter.
Her eyes glow, shrinking gently
as joy pulls her lips wider,
a laugh that heals,
even hearts that forgot how to feel.

Her hair, sometimes a river, sometimes a wave,
holds the scent of days you wish would never end.
And when she tucks it behind her ear,
I wish my hands were brave enough to try.

There’s warmth in her touch,
not heat,
but the kind you carry in memories,
soft, and only found in kind souls.

She looks,
and the world forgets to turn.
She speaks,
and I find myself lost, willingly,
in the quiet storm of her gaze.

From head to toe,
she is art no brush could recreate,
a masterpiece
God signed with a whisper.

If only I could see her always.
If only she could hear all this from me.
If only she looked at herself
through my eyes,
she’d finally know
what true beauty really is.