When I am brave
I peer into the mirror
And look straight into the eyes that I cannot gyp
Because I know her better
Than anyone else
How she aches at the touch of the moments that slip
And how her face
Is a misleading veneer
To the passion and folly and wonder that throbs
In misconstrued messages
Floundering clumsily
In sighs or silence, in laughter, in sobs
For there are no words
To accurately spell
Her deepest fulfillment or daring demands
But when I am brave
I look in the mirror
Straight into her eyes because she understands
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!