My Mistresses Eyes

Yours eyes reflect pain in this

Photo I have of you - barely open,

As if cowed, afraid. Then there's

The button-nose, skin slightly cratered, breasts

(For you) too small: your confidence

Ebbs, your eyes half-shut, like waning moons,

As the traumas of past-life fuck-ups

Tide-rises into your eyes.

Not much of a looker, really.

But photography captures only the light

Reflected from without, from your surface;

And how we see it itself a reflection

Of fads for faces, clothes and bodies.

I know you, and have an uneclipsable view

Suffice to see the sweetness and light waxing from
you

And perceive the inner genius of who you are.

Personality nourishes the meadows of love

More than any trivial surface - it makes us see

Perspectives more fertile and rounded, like my view

Of you: not some mere, flat, photograph.

Because I know I have that deeper view

And I know that just being with you

Means to me all happiness, all beauty.