I hold your face between my hands
And run my thumbs along your unruly brows,
Reddish brown flecked with wiry gray.
I look deep into your eyes and see
The good and faithful man who loves me.
You say, ‘Have you seen my wife?’
I look off into the distance and reply,
‘Oh yes, I saw her holding your
Face between her hands.’
—Elaine Parker Akin