You Are Beautiful...

To The Lady on the Train,
 

When I look at you, the affect that you have on me is more than just a visual response... I see the curve of your eye, the round of your cheek, the line of your jaw from your ear to your chin.. I see the curls of your hair, framing your face... the arch of your eyebrow... the tones and colours of your skin.. the wondrous shape of your lips, in a hint of a smile.. 

 

The line of your graceful neck, your ears just visible... and your shoulders so perfectly contradictory in their strength and frailness... 

 

Oh, I see you and I am absolutely struck dumb by your beauty... pure and absolute beauty - but this is not what knocks me completely... it is your eyes, your gaze... it is being able to see you through those windows - into a world that I sometimes mis-read - but sometimes give you away when you most want to hide... your eyes that I fall into, every time - even when I look at a picture...

 

I fall into your gaze and I want to wander there forever. I see worlds that could not exist anywhere else.. I see paradoxes and harmonies.. I see a woman so strong that she needs nothing but her own will. I see a woman that sometimes just wants to be held and shielded from the world. I see the most joy and the deepest sorrow... I see worry and I see playfulness... here there is love and there is bitter anger... there is lightness and there is a dark flash... these and so much more are in your eyes... sometimes in turn, and miraculously sometimes existing in the very same moment...

 

A man could spend a lifetime in your eyes... his hand to your cheek... your face close... the scent of your skin and hair filling his senses... A man could spend a lifetime right here, and want for nothing else - and never come close to exploring all that there is of you... to be with you is to battle and to love, to be at ease and to be aware, to seek and to hide and to seek, to be utterly lost and to be completely found... 

 

And any man who is given this privilege by you, to be held in your gaze.. any man that finds himself there and knows what he has found is truly blessed.. but if he does not know what he has been given, is somehow blind, then he is much the poorer...

 

Oh, I know what I have found in you... and I am the luckiest man because of it... and knowing it, just takes my breath away every time I look at you
 
The Man in the Station