You are a beautiful brokenness,

A symphony of sad songs, a crescendo of sorrow in your quivering voice.

How sharp the edges of your words,

How pointed your stern expression,

And desolate your deep brown eyes.

You are a novel in the making,

A happy ending in progress.

I will read until your frowns wear into smiles

And adore you until your edges smooth out.

I admire the story you are.

R. A. D.

November 2, 2016


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