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jean

1

the thing i first liked about jean
was when she spoke of her own
confidence - something not old in her life -
it was nevertheless there 
even in those words,
and it grabbed you 
and lulled you
both.

not strangely,
i became weak for jean, because
sifting her nerve like powders ever finer
were tiny passages sailed through unsure:
doubt, unease, frustrated restraint, they
grabbed and lulled her confidence,
insinuated themselves
inside her - she who was striving for
a perfect surety.

a communion and a peep show for me.

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