She Knows

I see her holding her coffee just so, and I wonder if she knows the grace of her own hands. How every movement of her fingers is a pirouette to the hearts of men. 

I see her shake her hair from her eyes, a casual toss to move it from her shoulders. I wonder if she knows the beauty of her neck. How it stretches and bends in all the right ways, tender and inviting to the lips. 

I see her smile her lightning smile, luscious lips gliding over white teeth. How the flash of it makes those around her feel lucky to be caught in her beams of sun. How the warmth of it fills the dark corners in every room. 

I see her walk through hallways, her every step a song to the earth. I wonder if she could possibly know how those hallways long for the kiss of her sweet feet. How they sulk and sag when she’s not there to dance with them. 

I see her stare into space, her mind forming ideas and thinking of those she loves. I wonder if she knows that every person around her wants to be amongst them, filling her thoughts as if she were theirs. How they look toward her in anticipation, to be caught by her lustrous eyes. 

I watch her and wonder if she knows the power she holds, just by being; just by moving, and living, and laughing. I throw hope in the undercurrents and aim them in her direction. All the admiration, all understanding, all the sight and knowing of her Divinty. In perfect love and perfect trust for the wild breath in her lungs. 

She turns to me and flashes me her light – the unspoken understanding of one untethered woman to another. A nod in agreement of one Goddess to another; one Priestess of old to another.

She knows.