Her heart

I hold her heart in my hands,

These words painted on paper.

Insights to various lands –

The secret stories that shape her.

 

Each sincere, stronger than the last;

Tales of love, trapped in the past –

And those tear-stricken pages

Provide more wisdom than sages.

It is in these seconds

I know more than before,

It is in these seconds

I have opened the door.

 

In this soft silence I remain convinced,

I am in a place that many have missed.

Perusing through pages – her soul tangible;

Her heart complex, and her mind able.

…

Revisited this poem for a new prompt. Check it out.