I went to see a love of mine today.
She stood in a wonderful red patterned caftan-like dress.
Delightful red embroidery at the throat.
She smiled, pleased, as I was, that I was there.
Her brown hair cascaded down each side of her face over her shoulders,
feathering out a welcome
Her care bespoken face, as always, carried her character, her loveliness through pain,
her ability to have faced pitted despair and found that she still wanted life.
I love seeing her face.
It somehow soothes me,
allows me to feel like I’m alright for the moment.
as though softness and tenderness do exist for my soul.
Intimacy is in her face.
Or perhaps it mirrors mine.
I don’t know.
But I know she is a love of mine.