Ceramic Vase

My arms stretched around her. She rose like a flower. Blossoming to life. Her lips a bud. Flourished full. I a reddish ceramic. A reminder that we are grounded. She filled where I felt most empty. On certain days she would dance in my arms. Painting my cheeks rose red. Creating foundation we both can grow. Her trust being the ultimate gift. Arms wide open she dug deeper. Without soil, water or sun. I'd stunt her growth. Our self love being reason to how we feed each other. Blooming the petals of what became ideal. I gave without fear that the vase would break. Butterflies loom over her head. Watching her grow was the most important thing