I hope she grows fascinated of the stars like I do. Of scientists and painters and Einstein.
I hope her little feet would carry her so high she’d eventually need her arms to fly. Daring for ideas and never too shy.
I hope she’d never have hills of thorns to crawl past. I hope her wide set eyes along with her smile will forever last.
I hope she’d never be taken advantage of. To know the true meaning of love.
I hope I’m there for her when she starts walking, talking, drawing, dreaming. I hope I’m there. Always.
My cute little shit