I see the way she looks at him,
The way she wants him,
The way her eyes strip away
Layers of a complicated man;
I see the confidence she has;
The fearlessness in certain danger;
The bravery when broken hearted
I’m jealous of her smile,
Her laughter, her joy,
Of all that reflection holds.
I long to be her kind of fierce;
To exude such grace under fire,
To worry not what damage
A heart inflicts on its own
©2017 – V. A. Coote