Over Time

In her photograph,
she tastes the smoke in between her fingers
and licks her lips.....trying not to be savage, wild
but she has become desperate;
her dreams the only color she can imagine
can save.

In his photograph,
she no longer holds her head bashfully
and tries to hide her black eyes of
vulnerability....her eyes have been opened
to white daffodils and sweet sunshine;
her mind has begun to be purified,
looking into new eyes that attempt
a smile.

And in her heart, she knows
her photograph will someday
watch them falling in love,
far away from war that threatened
death.....
they have much more
in the future,
a love springing up over time.

Written March 16, 2012