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talking to myself

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Judith

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markdohle

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She stood behind the door

Tapping on the glass gently

Seeking my attention,

Or perhaps just anyone who passes by.

Smiling sweetly,

Seeking to charm its recipients

Into doing her will,

Her smile anxious for freedom.

Elegant in her beauty,

Her hair long and black

With streaks of grey,

Tied in a long graceful ponytail.

Such delicate beauty,

So alone,

Misunderstood,

Trapped in her private world.

Each who experience her need

In the end

Knowing they cannot help,

Turn away sadly.

As I walk away changed by the encounter

Knowing that I have been touched,

Branded by her vulnerability

Her memory will never leave me.

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