It’s her eyes,
And the way they turn sky blue when the sun hits them just right.
It’s her hair,
And the way she spends hours perfecting it to be pencil straight or roller coaster curly.
It’s her laugh,
And the way she throws her head back while searching for air that will help her giggles die down.
It’s her voice,
And the way she knows just what to say to make me smile.
It’s her hands,
And the way she lightly rubs the top of my skin with her thumb to show her appreciation.
It’s her car,
And the way her brakes squeak extremely loud, telling me when she has arrived.
It’s her clothes,
And the way she wears her dad’s old pajama pants while telling me how comfy they are.
It’s her heart,
And the way she never passes up an opportunity to compliment a friend or even a stranger.
It’s her smile,
And the way I can’t keep my eyes off of her wide, teethy expression.
It’s her gaze,
And the way she looks at me like I’m the only person in the whole entire world.
It’s her.