She by Jane Lang I looked over her shoulder, into the mirror wondered what she saw…let me tell you what I see: prisms, sharply etched into her reflection, this chosen life; a silk dressing gown hanging off the back of an open door waiting for the touch of her skin to bring it to life I see old pain, sorrow, loss, acceptance as she moves purposefully forward behind those lightly-tinted glasses which hide a myriad of fears—as well I see warmth, laughter, joy, exploration of new love in this new now Hands clasped as if in prayer, bracelets on her arms, jewelry of preference, a subtle aura surrounds this woman of many talents waiting for her lover, and seen in the mirror's reflection: prisms of light, splashes of bright up-swept colors, hopes, dreams—these truths are mine, I am…She
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