These dim lights,
Flicker across her face -
Giving way to all,
Her little nuances,
Her subtle smiles,
And expressions -
Anger, hurt,
Love or laughter,
It bathes her,
In a certain shade
Of perfection,
As she runs hands -
Through tied back hair,
Removed from her face,
Like her makeup,
The side I alone get to see.
She knows not
That as she reads -
In dim light,
I see her more clearly,
Than she sees herself.
Kevin Brown © 14.08.2016
Ancien Hippie 