Silent beauty

With a vigour of love and grace, you move me with your stillness.

Illustrious and effortless, radiating from you

I look into your eyes, and I see the ocean of feeling

Press my soft power into your heart

Behold this, sit in it, and melt

Melt and open, in my caress

Nothing to be done, that need be done, all in you

Soft, still, open, the most beautiful caress.

 

At times when we are feeling lost, alone, disconnected, it is easy for us to search for answers outside of us.  As though the answer is so simple.  A clever phrase to be spoken, a little joke, a piece of cleverness to win us some attention.  When a man moves into that place, moves his power to such a sprawling locus, he loves the semblance of power.  His actions lack merit, his movements lack vigour, his  intent loses sharpness.

Shame with a woman, when she cannot find her own beauty.

A difficult thing to behold, it is sure.  When a delicate pixie, a beautiful creature, cannot find the love inside.  Her laugh shows ecstasy, but there is no ease.  Her movements have fluidity, but there is no grace.  Her sex is searing, but there it is not soothing, not sensual.

There is a moment with a woman, when the magic unfolds.  It happens in silence.  When she loses her masks.  When she wears a true face.  The lines of joy and anguish drawn into her face.  For just that moment, with her, powerfully, completely.  When she opens with her heart in her eyes.

That is her true beauty.

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