Your ballerina eyes - blue
Except for a tiny horse-chestnut speck under each pupil
Speckles on a duck egg
Focus point for truth -
Meet mine.
Light emanates
From your twilight visage.
Cheeks ever-so-slightly tinged with
Russian pointe-shoe pink –
Gracing your poised exterior,
Full of beauty and truth.
Your presence a poultice, a sticking plaster for pain.
You walk through this snowy February afternoon
Unaware that as you go, you scatter warmth.
The snow melts on your cheeks.
Each flake unique as the purpose in each step.
We part,
And I turn to watch as you dart homeward,
You glance over your shoulder and your eyes are shining
Free, now.
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