the way she makes her feel is wrapped up
in pastel puffs of saltwater taffy twisted in parchment paper,
in the creaking of a wooden swing into the green brown bushes,
in the arms of smoke curling from a blown out cranberry candle.

and her safety is found
in the deepest blue-green eyes behind glass,
in a sweater a tad too small smelling of citrus,
in a bed with too many pillows and a store’s stock of blankets.

and her worth is found
in admiration breathed against necks,
in compliments stirring hair,
in smiles when eyes are laid on her.

and she’s never felt better now that she has
her,
her heart,
her love.