Chocolate chips melted on her chin, her heart spills over. Her voice is full of the poetry I will need in greeting old age with love. Her voice has the Christmas colors that never sleep, full of charmed mornings and singing lovebirds and the waltzing she does after school. She is a rose in the wind, a sparkler blessing everything we believe and every mystery in this keepsake. Her cherry, cherry smiles are as lovely as any daughter’s ever, and I want you deeply to reflect and contemplate upon the sacred faith in the future this voyager creates in us.

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