Dark hair, grey eyes, capable fingers, movement
Graceful and certain; my slow puzzled smile
Accusing of too much ingenuousness
Yet offered more than I could hope to achieve,
And if I thought I loved, no man would doubt it.”
So speaks the image as I read her mind,
Or is it my pride speaks on her behalf,
Ventriloquizing to deceive myself?
Anger, grief, jealousy, shame confuse the issue,
Her beauty is a truth I can not blink