Rain drops place gently against her umbrella as she stands in front of my estate. The winter air which circulates her body becomes visual as she breathes through her gloom. Tears roll off the side of her cheeks leaving tracks of black eye liner. She grips the handle of her rain catcher tight and remains quiet with doubt for a second chance. The recent past shadows her as the sun sets and even god looks down at this rep of deceiving beauty with disappointment, but hope. From her position, this bold and imposing move to improve her mistakes has opened my doors with optimism. I have seen many sad days because of this woman so an umbrella doesn't seem acceptable to me. Evaporating mist runs off my chest as I walk outside toward her for I have only committed to a pair of jeans and sandals. Thoughts replay through my mind of not what pain I've endured, but of the positive experiences I've ignored. I finally reach her within seconds and cup her hands with mine. She reacts with suprise, but finds comfort in her heart and holds onto my torso. I smile and whisper into her ear. . . I forgive you.
March 16, 2008