that infuses my soul
the warmth of invisible arms
like a wool blanket wrapped tight
on a frozen Arctic tundra
you’d see the tears
that spill from my eyes
like dewdrops falling
from the fading datura at sunrise
you’d see the happiness
that travels through my smile
enveloping all who choose to see
like a child laughing
at fireworks in the Heavens
you’d see the fragility
that lies beneath
the facade of confidence
that drapes like a raw silk throw
upon an antique chaise
you’d feel the seduction
that emanates from my body
graceful movements in the moonlight
like a white tiger
hunting in the jungles of Bangladesh
you’d see the scars
that map my faith
the remnants of false promises
like the riot of pattern
woven in an Aubusson rug
you’d see what I wanted
the helplessness, or intrigue
anger, or even forgiveness
like a sculpture of marble
Michelangelo could only predict
you’d see the longing
that tears my thoughts
shredding ideas to ribbons
like prayer flags
billowing on a Tibetan slope
if you could only see me in all my glory
you’d see me as I want to be seen.
