I heart

The smell of rain after a thunderstorm,
the sound of snow falling on an empty street at night;

Seeing a smile on a child's face,
listening to the heartbeat when my head is rested on his chest;

The reverberating echoes of empty cobblestone streets in Paris,
having my hand held when crossing one;

Making it up to you, apologies taken,
moving forward, moving still;

The butterflies that never flew away,
only fluttering, little wings;

Pink sunsets, painted skies;
feet buried in warm white sands.

Being the object of affection, whilst understanding,
one has to give, in order to receive.

The look in Macy's eyes,
pure love;

Because it gives me a sense of peace;
it is why we live.
Because he cares,
and all is only forgotten if we are forgivable.
Because it catches you by surprise;
it is beautiful,
it melts you,
and one deserves nothing less.

Feeling loved.
Because that is when I feel complete.