It is something I will always remember.
The low rumble of her laugh while she’s talking,
The effort to contain
the excitement in her voice,
The sheer joy evident
through her dark-lined eyes,
almost disappearing to a slit.
She’s a work of art, really.
She can smile with her eyes.
A beauty yet to be discovered by many
for it is hidden
behind all the society’s preferences
of what beauty is
or should be.
Better that way for hers is
an unconventional beauty.
The kind that can only be
seen and described by poetry.
The kind that doesn’t have to
be known by the world
But should be.
It is true.
That in places people tend to not look,
There is beauty.