Face in the Mirror

red dress

how can you possibly know

what beats in my heart

when you look back at me and see

shadows beneath my dark eyes,

 fine lines appearing?

do you think you can judge me,

define me, assign me or confine me

to an age, gender, race, mood

or emotion by looking at me?

do you think physical appearance

is the full measure of me ?

when I look back at you, I see the room

of books I have read, the ripeness

of Autumn’s bounteous bliss ,

mountains climbed, rivers crossed.

Then the fleeting twinkle of a mischievous

thought, a dash of adventure, the mystery

of my loves.

I see the yearnings and burnings

of my passions, the flashes of anger

and rage, the etchings of compassion

and concern, the misery of suppression,

 fire in my soul,

reckless thoughts in my head,

 I hear the thumping  of my heartbeat

And the music – can you hear it?

the gentle strumming of a guitar,

rising tempo of the violin,

 romance of the saxophone,

 nostalgia of the trumpet,

and the melody of the piano, the hunger of

 drums beating to the beat-beat-beat.

Admit that I have fooled you, betrayed

you, deceived you, with all that you see.

yet, you’re my ally, my accomplice, my

comforter and my first lover too.

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