From young to old:

My pink cowgirl boots-

splattered with mud from when I tripped over 

the extra inches in my shoes there are yet to fill in.

From middle to top:

Entangled rhinestones at my neck,

and smudged charcoal encircled inside

wide rimmed reflectives that enhance more than just my vision. 

In and out will the ink push through,

from a point to the delicacy of rough,

Patchwork that encases me.

Leaving hearts and moons,

and flowers at my fingertips.

From midway down:

on my shoe covered toes-

filled in by markers and names,

swirls and signs-

They are laced,

double knotted- 

All the way up,

No strings left untied.

So even when home is in sight,

and my bag slumps to the floor unharmed,

and my laces come undone halfway-

the ink still exists on my skin,

and rhinestones stay entangled at my throat,

caressing what layers of my neck are exposed-

there is a reflection encased in the jewel-

Your reflection. 

Incomparable to a physical being

because it is my heart that leaps with attained gaiety 

when I see you side by side with me.

Yet how lovely it would be to see my own reflection

In your rhinestone.