I look in the mirror, as if I see my self in the mirror of my own self — and I see a beauty waving back at me. She’s gorgeous, spontaneous, intuitive, loving, and hearty like the one that could steal hearts.
And yet there’s a moroseness felt deep down in her — as if something is stopping her beauty, inhibiting her trueness from showing up. That abandon in her reflection and that charm that would stop you in your tracks to pay heed to her, is but caged somewhere.
But the reflection in the mirror and the mirror of her mind proves it otherwise. The beauty is right there — within and now the mirror helps her see it without.
She knows. She is love. She is pretty. She is an antiquity – made more gorgeous and deep by her travails.
She is beautiful.
I am beautiful
Cidakasha 