She is his world. 

Everything she does, says, breathes,

Is beautiful, magnificent, and all those other words

he uses to such an extreme.

He loves her, apparently, leaves her

Questioning what it really means.

Because

She's just a girl with a face and blue eyes and a smile,

Sometimes, 

a cackling laughter that she hates because it shows her.

She's quiet and little and she feels 

Like no one can see her,

But that's ok.

Really, it is. 

But he sees her and

Glows 

like lightning crack and thunder rumble

In skies bruised purple,

But inside she crumbles like

buildings-collapsing-rubble,

because the glow of star he sees,

Is everything she thinks she wishes

she could be but doesn't believe.

He claims she's THAT girl, with the

Blond pony tail flipping and

itty bitty waste and

All the right things to say and not, 

With the golden laugh and

clear blue eyes he can stare into forever.  

"So beautiful today, darling," he says,

And her eyes dart to sides as if someone's sliced her insides open and poured her out on the floor, but the 

Catch in her breath tells her she wants more than to 

Just be beautiful to someone.

She wants more, not from people or things but

to fly with the birds with outstretched wings.

He values her faith, but her faith

Is her value, her worth, everything she is, 

More than his eyes could see, her faith is more;

Her wings. 

And the thing she loves, that

I love, is the faith isn't even hers, it's

A gift to her, her eyes opened,

By her first Love, her Creator.

And only her first Love can conquer those things 

She doesn't love, can make her all these things that he sees and dreams and breathes of her. 

Everything she is that he sees is merely the

Girl graced by the compassionate stare of 

Her Beholder, who longs for more and more 

Of He who makes her wings and flies with her.