Remember that girl– it’s nice, if only
for a moment. Feeling her gaze in the right
direction, the right way, better yet seeing her
look into the mirror and smile– not sigh–
onto my bedroom floor. I can soak up
that energy with two eyes, two hands,
but only one heart.
Because I know that girl looking back
all the time– I know her all too well.
Perhaps she is raw and flat, but up and coming;
gray and aggressive, yet calm and flaunting.
She is the most brown-haired, brown-eyed girl
you’ve ever seen around these hills–
she is me.
September 17, 2012