contours
of my heart
so crisp
so clear
at sixteen
when I was
bold
definite
confident
sure
when did lines begin
to shift
blurred beneath
the brushstrokes
of midnight blue
amethyst?
leaving more hidden
than revealed
when did this heart
become mystery
to myself?
a puzzle box of sandalwood
fragrant
warm to the touch
but contents evasive
always a fingertip
out of my reach

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© 2017 Revised 2020 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved