The Affable Hippie

to me, explains the cost
of the ring on my finger.

i sigh and twist my mouth,
hoping to get something
some deal
and am disappointed by my
failure to do so.

w. says, let me.
and buys the ring for my finger
i run and leave this precious
silver-glass slipper behind.

With eyes that have seen
and followed certain
paths to wisdom,
an open-heart
a hippie says to w.
she had the soul of souls -
seen in her eyes and the beauty
she IS beauty and is even more beautiful
simply because she is unaware of that fact.

and I blush and swoon
and hope to hear those words
someday
myself, from a man
in love.