I almost didn't see you

I almost didn't see you

I almost didn’t see you,
cloaked and protected as you were,
wrapped tightly in your seven veils of insecurity,
covered from head to toe in your burkha of modesty,
shielded by your habit and coif of inexperience,
protected most of all by your invisibility cloak of activity.

I almost didn’t see you
hurrying by to keep an appointment
with whom you didn’t know.

I almost didn’t see you,
but then a glimpse as red painted toenails peeked out,
peeked from under the edge of your invisibility cloak
flashed in the moonlight
and were gone.

I almost didn’t see you
but this brief glimpse led me to look more closely
under the coif and habit, a shining wisp of hair,
behind the burkha, a gleam of mysterious eyes,
beneath the veils, a hint of womanly curves.

I almost didn’t see you
but when I did, I stepped in your path.
I waved away the invisibility cloak.
I gently removed the habit and coif and released your golden locks.
I unclasped the burkha and let it slip from your shoulders.
I slowly unwrapped your seven veils,
and gazed upon your femininity as God intended.

I almost didn’t see you,
cosseted and covered as you were.
but now I worship you,
the bouyant yellow curls of your hair, no longer covered,
the dancing light in your eyes, no longer shaded,
the voluptous undulating woman, no longer restrained,
all the way down to the tips of your delicate toes,
the tiny toenails of destiny.