She was beautiful. Conventionally or not, she was beautiful. It was the kind of beautiful which made birds sing and everyone feel ok. It was the way the sun shines through on a cold day and you debate the need for your coat. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who knew this,  and I fear I won’t be the last. You never want to give up the light, the joy, the good. She was beautiful, whether I had her or not.

She is by Amy Kennedy