she puts on lace lingerie, favorite perfume, lipstick and blush, closes the curtains, lights candles, lies alone on the bed, reads literature and enjoys being a woman.

“for women, then, poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought.”

she's an old soul, with young eyes. a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind.