FREEDOM would be driving

with the windows down

and the spring air painting ribbons

through your hair like a lost Van Gogh.

It would be that Macklemore song

permeating the car

and swallowing those voices

with righteous lyrics of acceptance.

 

HOPE would be walking

with an ocean of possibilities ahead

and warm skin between your fingers,

tangled enough to reel you back.

It would be those eyes on you

never showing hate

and the salt water underfoot

not made of tears anymore.

 

BEAUTY would be dancing

with lights in your hair

and his laughter at your crooked tie

fixed with the trust in his hands.

It would be her pale eye shadow

turned to your heels

when your compliments rush out

and all around people are full of joy.