but flaring, in a moment . . .
In a room rarely filled with light, I took myself to her supernatural ear. . .
I whispered “now I have found you to be beautiful” : she swiftly fetched her device- “look! the camera captured my first gray strands- at the fontanel- you see?” : as if to say to me, “ah! such a strong part of me knows of you” -
As if to convey how clever she knew one must be to foresee insensate futures in seas of surrounding artificial youth and color.
As if to acknowledge necessary wit as a warming fist to affection- “I know we’re not all Van Goghs here, dancing on the head of a pin” : but so intimate that circular moment! : how could I have neglected myself, reflected in her sparkling coal black eyes? : that moment in which she knew I was as yet in love, still knotted within her low lit busking hair.
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