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