_ My Mother’s Force and Her Vitality _ _ (I Love You.)_ My mother is a force—an unyielding woman who protects only her own—yet her mortality humbles me. The tender, upward creases by her tearful eyes make me cherish her vitality: her silly twirls, dulcet giggles, and shielding caress which make me realize I’ve found home.

My little brother is the kindest, smartest, most adorable kid to ever exist in the whole universe, and he is my entire world!!

His eyes were full of thoughts, as vast as the baby blue sky in his eyes. Knowledge. Questions. Hopes. Pains. Dreams. More questions. Mistakes. Love for God. Faith. I had never been so intrigued. I was afraid of approaching him so I settled on grasping to uncover the mysteries of his character through others—siblings, mutual friends, proximity. I learned good things. I learned bad things. But that didn’t scare me; I was willing to embrace it all. What I was afraid of was his curiosity in the complexity in my own thoughts—my good and my bad. I just think of all the conversations and banter and debates we could’ve shared if I had been brave enough to reciprocate his approach. He was a specimen I would’ve loved to pick it apart, uncover the beauty that lay within. I’ve liked guys before, but they never struck me as something beautiful. I genuinely admired the soul in his being.

She was like the nebula, infinite, intangible, and holy enough to engulf something whole.

She is the loudest when she is silent, her pensive eyes staring into a daydream unreachable to the rest of humankind.

He looks like 2:45-3:12 in All I Need by Radiohead.

The way her shoulders sloped, you can almost see the weight of her nearly six decades of life, each turn of the clock having brought her fresh tragedy—the sudden loss of her father, the grenade-inflected dissolution of her country, the trudge of an immigrant life in America—but when she laughs, her chin rises to the sky, taking with it her unwavering spirit, her unbroken joy.

My heart hums “him” in the key of C whenever he is near.

I felt her light that week, and every day since, I’ve tried to be a better man.

Yes, she was aesthetically beautiful, pleasing to the eyes’ of others, but the soul of her subconscious proved a beauty superior to temporary physical attributes through the warmth that radiated from her heart.