Images formed through a half
Broken glass frame,
A place where she still became
One of two, of a silent solitude
She, a woman, lost in a rhyming pool of loss
We suddenly became one ...
Where friends are never lovers
Always alone
Yet, somehow complete

Never a life of explicit splendor,
A little something, equaling everything..
Something more
Was always waiting
As I waited,
In darkness, In light
Waiting for what I have found
In the now, my past
A new future

Trusses of red flow freely
Shoulders left bare, reborn;
Born naked
Burn with an unknown passion
Wishing, dreaming
For a light touch of fingertips
To reveal the forgotten soul she carried
Now remembered
Inside

A mirror
A face

Of a woman, in beauty
Strength
A lady in waiting
For
A soft remembrance of

Herself