You see beauty a thousand times a day. It's the strangers with their hair and their tattoos and their piercings so exotic. The high-heeled girl from that designer shop just down the road, with her half shaved head and those eyes... those eyes... those completely wonderful eyes. And the random strangers with their accents and their histories, and the locals and the regulars with their quirks and must I sit here at this table or can I sit at that table over there? You see the scars and the bandages and you see and hear the wounds. You see and listen to the damaged ones, and you try to make them feel comfortable and at home, because you're welcome here. And it's all kind of beautiful.
Tonight I saw beauty again. In the mirror, Ann's eyes squinting as she shaved my head. Not aware of me. Not aware that I was looking at those amazing brown eyes. She trimmed and fluffed and squinted, and I had a few moments to look into her wonderful eyes and think, yeah you, you beautiful you.
Tonight I saw beauty again. In the mirror, Ann's eyes squinting as she shaved my head. Not aware of me. Not aware that I was looking at those amazing brown eyes. She trimmed and fluffed and squinted, and I had a few moments to look into her wonderful eyes and think, yeah you, you beautiful you.
No comments:
Post a Comment