The Glance
What he sees
is who I am
and who I am
now seizes me
in this warm embrace of his glance,
my heart a lotus opening,
a dewdrop hanging
from a spider web at dawn.
What do you call this feeling
that wants to linger in the space
now made larger by him looking at me?
Is there a name for it,
does there need to be,
the fragrance of gardenias everywhere?
Photo: TimelessToday
Peak
PremRawat.com
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at August 19, 2019 12:19 AM
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