For you!

There's a sort of pain that clenches consciousness in its fist's and wings it dry, leaving just the poetry. The fibres that keep us breathing, and the heart that pumps whether we will it to or not. For such an icy-cold hard year, you're dreamy and warm. Suppose some paths are softer than others. Piece by painstaking piece, we build these lives of ours. And occasionally, on our most blessed clear-sighted days, we get to step back and admire.
There is so much to explore with what you and I have. In my eyes you are the truest, kindest, strongest, most sensitive. You are not "too" anything. You just are.

Bleak times lit so brightly by hope, by you. The line between dreams and life, so beautifully smudged. You are perfect, in your colours and in your light.