I Saw Your Face Today

I saw your face today.
It was pale.
Your eyes disclosed evidence of your recent tears.
I wish that I could hold you
and shield you from ravages,
from, like writhing snakes,
these horrors that seek to choke you.
I wish that you could be
that vivacious, carefree woman
whom you gave form to
on your new-found stage
with your new-found figure,
embodying womanhood and desire.
But when I saw you today,
the semblance of coquetry was gone.
Your lashes did not reach out
to the dark room beyond, beckoning us in
to a well-lit world where
the players enjoy happy endings.
Your color had been swept away,
and my desire to make
this wretchedness stop,
but a wish on one of your fallen eyelashes.
Yet, even in the throes of grief,
you are ineffably beautiful,
having loved deeply.
The traps of lifeless sorrows
cannot triumph against such beauty.

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