Lilac Wine

She was of indeterminate age poised in the backseat as if sitting in the high court— only the high court was not there. Her stunning beauty struck through me like a chilling wind as one turns the corner of a San Franciscan street. She exhibited depth through her eyes that only the strong could endure, only the strong would notice. I was full of questions. I was drawn to her compelling smile. A smile that has only been duplicated once— in a painting, that still leaves historians baffled, just as much as me. Every time I look into her eyes, I feel as if I’ve been transported into another world, but a world I know not. I long to open the doors, to see from her perspective. I’d imagine it’s a beautiful one. She has the eyes of an artist.