• you are worth the sum of two moons and
    three-hundred and ninety-seven crystalline stars.
    (you outshine everything
    everything
    everything.)

    you are beautiful, like a fallen paper angel, with
    tattered wings and a shipwreck smile, and
    your halo is woven from strands of golden
    and smiles
    and love.

    you are damaged, maybe, but through your cracks
    and bruises shines a glow that's worth the hurt, seeping through
    your fractures like the ocher-eyed sun,
    the silver-threaded rain,
    the sunset-spattered sky.

    you speak of translucent dreams and strawberry skies
    and black-and-blue fingertips pressed to forlorn skin.
    to you, i can say 'i love you', and i'll always mean it.
    (love isn't even
    a strong enough word.)