Her eyes had a tinge of sadness, ingrained
and her smile, few dabs of a haunting pain,
as if her soul was bleeding but I thought
was it truly so or just weariness,
from a long and arduous day, setting in
on her plain and simple but elegant face!
Although many months have been written down
in the annals of human history
with minute polish and minimum care,
since I saw her last and breathed in her scent,
a mild aroma of sweet lavender,
not a single crease blemished her flawless skin!
I wondered how she could remain so deaf
and unfazed by the woes and glees of life?
Yet, once she started opening up herself,
through the apparent calm of thirty years,
in glimpses I could see the child, dwelling
inside her indifferent demeanor.
Soon I could feel the urge growing on me
to reach out and touch her face with my hand
to see if I could peel those faces off
from her real face, the one that I, so madly love!