your hair glowing, fine
in swirls around the
dip of sloping
collarbones,
falling careless across
the cracked back
of an old sofa,
straying from thin pins
to frolic in the tired
breeze and snatch
old sunlight that stream
in through a slim gap
of the window,
radiating love
in a simple
golden hue,
shining quietly with
an irrelevance 
fresh from your
yoga heart,
playing with stolen
glances from behind corners
and forgotten books,
strumming the bronze
color of your bright patient
eyes,
pulling myriad attention
back to the shining example
of gentleness;
sweet low humming
seeping through hardwood
and strangers' skins,
spreading thin across the
lull of late afternoon
like a warmed bowl
of young honey,
pricking spines and lingering
in memories of faces
nameless to your being
empoweredly alive,
a true caress rivaling
the nudge of old
mother nature/