Comments about Gypsy Girl
I recall him, the line of his lovely face’s form.
The far away intensity of his screeching kindled eyes
The resonating presence that is the commanding power of his voice;
His eyes – like resting in the unfathomableness of an eon.
Hearing him speak, his everyday intonations
Like a choir and a hymnal melding together in the union of voice.
He is pointed, direct with engaging words driven by an improper need.
Insecurity he knows.
Doubt – he does not.
To see his beautiful personhood
In the most private of halls
Revel in the ...