I want to remember that sparkle in her eye.
That thinking look that she gives me when we're face to face.
How she watches my every move as I go about the room.
I want to remember the fluff of her hair.
The soft wave that she gets from her daddy.
The wispy hairs that cover the top of her forehead
I want to remember those lips.
The lips that I kiss nearly a hundred times a day.
How her baby breath truly does smell like the flower.
I want to remember this smile.
How she can do it with her eyes.
The way her upper lip protrudes, and the cooing sound she makes.
The intense joy that wells up inside of me everytime I see it.
I want to remember her cheeks.
Cheeks that feel like rose petals rubbed against my lips.
The dimple that forms with her smile.
I want to remember these feet.
Something less desirable on myself, but oh so beautiful on my babe.
Those crinkled toes and barely there nail beds.
I want to remember the miracle.
The miracle of life that I see when I gaze into her eyes.
When her head's on my shoulder and I whisper in her ear.
The miracle I feel when I cradle her in the crook of my arm.
And the miracle that screams the goodness of God.