Detail, John Lyons (oil on canvas)

Dark lashes
       eyes abashed
reticent lips
       gentle wind
sifting the hair
       a vulnerable beauty
built of taut flesh
       and supple bone
that must step out
       into the world

Sometimes words
       get the better of her
and she turns in
       upon herself
no mirror can
       hold her for long
nor any man’s arms
       nor moon her night
she is a truth
       waiting to be told

John Lyons