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I think I saw myself through your eyes
Folder:
2011
Who is this woman beside me on the bus?
She looks so deep. Profound, yet hollow
I am taken by her beauty,
Her provocative, messy curls that perfectly frame her face
The apparent softness of her skin
Its even olive tone inviting and warm
The way her glasses seem to be an extension of her body and her mind
Her eyes, vast dark eyes
Eyes that appear to know all the wisdom of the world
As if they have peered into Pandora’s Box and still see hope
Her lips, their soft pink colour like watered down roses
Their stern firm shape like anger
Who tis this woman who sits beside me on the bus
And why can’t I reflect her beauty?
