There’s magic in your very core.
Figures become shadows
Voices fall like feather
When I stand there, listening to you.
Your magic takes in colors.
And just like that, with that one gentle brush stroke,
You paint me in unimagined colors.
The palette of what if
has never been this comforting.
The canvas of so what
has never been this real.
The art you drew upon my spirit fills me
with a kind of happiness that can last