Her
smile muscles are always in the starting blocks, anticipating some short
jocular sprints. Little do they know, her mind is in a trigger-happy mood. The
corners of her mouth, where all the emotional truth tellers hang out, gives
reads on every feel that passes by. Her nose, poses as a statuesque stoic nose.
Not much for wiggles or winces or wrinklings yet her nostrils flex with subtle
efficiency, kindly patting each in-breath lightly on the head in passing. There
is a point to her chin, easily usable for sternness or compassion in an elagant
gliding swan pride. Following the around of her mouth, her lips are like
ballroom dancers, using any excuse to stretch themselves, showing initiative
towards soft commentary and embracing smiles. Her face is sacred ground, as
glowing reflectors of last consequence before people invite themselves into her
eyes. These pools of depth and sincerity, are gaze-posts of supportive means,
soul-mirrors of empowering confirmation. Her eyes read you as chapters by seconds.
They weigh your light while you explain away your shadows. These eyes are
hallways to the inner lair of the night sky-panther that soars the hidden above
of you through ever so faint but stealth presence, keenly to savor your being
with her facial countenance, soulfully from beyond and within . . .
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