“There is no
exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.” - Edgar
Allan Poe
The eyes, the
nose and the lips – the proportions are odd, yet together proffer an allurement
more supplication than seduction. If sound took form we would see harmony.
Her face remains more in memory than on a screen – for that’s where she belongs amid timeless shadows and sighs, the candle-lit embrace under a windswept moon with everything drifting out to dawn.
She could only come from an old land of sun and sea where the past is bemused by the present, knowing the love of life leaves you untouched by time. You can see it in her smile and the way she swirls her skirt. When she’s around, you don’t need a clock.