You....

You can smile at your reflection in a window or a spoon and I'll smile at you.

Your eyes are pretty, flat on the underside and curved above like cathedral windows, and they look like they've seen too much and may be the color of jade but aren't jaded.

You struggle with the notion of forgiveness for those who have hurt you. Most of those lines are from wicked crooked grins and a quick wit.

You thought for sure you were bound for hell and bravely bared your teeth until you learned "sin" comes from the Greek word meaning "missed the mark," and that nobody else could tell you the destination of your soul.

The way you smell reminds me of winter, kind of musty and black leather and old patched coats. Residual camphor and cedar of dark old closets. Constant dark burgundy lipstick, a wild mane of dark black hair, and a butterfly tattoo on your shoulder. Black clothes, always.

You say it hides stains best