She tilts her head back, rolling curls of dusky brown hair fall over her shoulders.
Copper eyes with piercing abilities stare into my soul... strangely familiar.
She raises an arm, strong from the grunt work of training,
But opens soft, quite hands- a medic.
A tear drop shaped face and skin tanned from life on the farm,
scars from living out adventures.
She stalks away from me and then back again,
supported on thick, muscled thighs-
The product of riding horses and running miles through woods.
She smiles, knowingly.
Thoughts dance behind her steady gaze,
but her lips are stilled.
She understands me- all the encrypted stories and the hushing secrets.
She is true to me and I to her,
She is the girl in my mirror.