Touched Her Face

I pray beneath streetlights To find the light within myself; I kiss holy books and letters she wrote In the belief that life is sacred mystery. Every day is an unknown journey; Maybe our life will remain routine, Maybe we will veer off into a nightmare or dream. Perhaps, I’m shallow: I only want to listen to music And to smell the fragrance of her hair, To exist in a place of flowers. Anymore, I’m always on the verge tears For no definable reason And I can no longer discern If I’m happy or sad. If I disappear tomorrow, It will be as if I never breathed In this fragile place, But a part of me believes I’ve reached her heart And touched her face.