BY John Thomas Tuft

On her face is written a library of living

Volumes of experience and emotion laying claim

To the gentle features of the manuscript of her flesh

The contours of her visage now the bindings that remain.

The look in her eyes tells of secrets never betrayed

And hurts that found their home in the nestings of her soul

The griefs and worries blending together on her cheeks

In the creasings of remorses holding stories yet to unfold.

Memories play across her revealing lips

Eager to escape before the stranger’s scorn

The ages trapped within her fragile heart

Are the dicta of her dreams yearning to be born.