She says she can see the reflection
of the clouds in my sunglasses,
But what I see is a woman;
young and fresh, and unwritten.
I see how the light both reflects
and emanates from her.
I want to say many important things –
about being a woman, and love, and sex,
and about the divine that permeates all of us,
regardless of what anyone else says.
Instead I find myself smiling at her,
and sharing the bench and the moment
that floats on the spring breeze.