Tall

I watched her walk.

Taller than she actually is.

Shoulders back.

Chin up, as if she’d never doubted herself.

Never cried.

Never had a false notion or insecure thought.

I wish I could still-frame it,

Cut and paste it onto the inevitable moments where she will feel

The opposite of how she feels now.

If only I could stamp my approval upon her,

Engrave my love into the frame.

Then she will never forget,

Never hunch her shoulders

Never tuck her chin.

Or sob in fear, sorrow, or shame.

But that would be a song lyric sans the music that makes it dance.

It would steal her chance at life,

Rob her of all lessons and learning.

Make her a shell, a container with no content,

A mannequin, lacking the actual beauty of a real soul.

Still I gaze.

The corners of my lips turned up.

She will become what she needs to be.

She will offer her gems to the world,

Even while she grieves all its dents and gashes.  

I watch her walk.

Tall in this moment.

Eyes on her prize,

My eyes on mine.