| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4408 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Handwriting Analyst M. Kathryn Black Your grey eyes hid secrets no one knew, but I learned subtlety. I put you off guard with tea leaves and tarot cards; you knew how to fool the house and did. Your chiding laughter was musical; I grinned, waiting my turn. You had to leave for Zurich on business, and I asked for a postcard. You agreed with good nature. The card arrived when you returned; I had all I needed. As an expert graphologist I read your life in each slant, dotted "i", and crossed "t", in the thickness of your "a's" and "o's", the flourishes of your "y's". You were a man with soft dreams filled with luminous light; you'd been hurt once and guarded your heart with ramparts and a moat, but you were good to the edge of saintliness and felt out of place in this world. There was no deviousness, only a need to protect. I loved you more, but I knew I was inadequate to any vision you had. I wept knowing I did not deserve you; you would never chose me as a lover. We met for coffee the next day, and you asked if I liked the postcard. I told you the photography of the Alps was beautiful. Then you asked about the message. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. Then you said that you didn't reveal yourself to just anyone. |
