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

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