Once upon a snowy sundown,

I stretched out on my sweet baby girl’s floor,
as we listened to music,
and then my girl crawled over to me,
and she planted her two palms on either side of my face
and lowered her two
tiny
rose-colored lips onto mine.
And she lingered there.
And I was whole.
And that, my friends,
is what they are talking about
when they write
Happily Ever After.

By Tuesday, February 22, 2011 0 , , Permalink

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