n an old decrepit vintage store , i see her on the wall. she is gazing at me.. calling me to come closer...and i do.... i look up into her face.. .. everything about her.... i love ...but i have that self-talk.. no i don't need her..
but then i keep going back to look at her...i am drawn to be near her... this cap that makes her look like the flying nun..where is she from? ..the purity of the look in her eyes....... the smocked dress.. even how her hands are folded...
Yes... i am in love with her.. cracks and damage and all to the image.. not important in the least..... i respond to worn imperfections.. ....they make it more beautiful to me....... the wear of time.. of history...
She is coming home with me........i can’t separate from her.... now i just need to find her a special place where i can look at her often..
