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Putting a Face on Love
Secretly,
I'd often wonder
what you saw
when you looked
at me...
Did you see silvered
lengths of hair and
time-worn skin
stretched thin
with living,
or did you see youth
dressed in black tresses
with eyes of green
laughing,
softly,
at life's
irony...
and I'd always realize,
if love had a face
it would be yours ~
every contour,
curve, and shadow
searing my memory
with radiant
light ~
burning their imprint
upon my skin
with eyes of
brown.
poem
by
Hazelmarie Elliott
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