Slim. Long. Tender  fingers skim  the surface,

the caress sure, a lover’s touch

trembling palms bring the portrait close

her lips  touch his

The edges  worn,

the hands that hold the portrait treasure it as though it were made this day

even with eyes closed, even when struck blind,

this portrait she recognizes

every curve, every blemish, every contrast, etched deep in her heart,her soul

his slow, steady walk, the thoughtful light in his eyes,

his smile that sparkled, and burned like the sun in mid afternoon  melting her heart to stone

sinking into the worn floor, she crushes his memory in an overpowering embrace

keep him  close as she can

he, gone with the moody seasons

She has held him this close through a thousand lives

cherished him in dreams sweeter than  ice cream

trembled at the memory of his  gentleness, his being

him being her eyes, ears, hands, and feet

the world through his eyes

He loved, she loved.

he smiled, she smiled

he cried, kissed his tears away

together they laughed and found communion

From the divine, theirs was a love gifted from the heart of the divine.

The Portrait she holds crushed into her skin

Alive, or dead,

Near, Far

The center of all her being