She is five-foot-three,
with an odd crop of brown hair
and a catlike grin
that forces her to smile when she doesn't want to.

She is fourteen (fifteen in thirty-seven- no, thirty-six days),
and makes me think that age might really be
just a number,
because she carries herself
with all the wisdom and remorse
of someone much older than me.

She is perfect
in the most imperfect of ways,
and her dry humor and quirky attitude
can keep me smiling all day.

She is everything I never asked for,
but
She is everything I've ever wanted.