Love Song

From the grip of fingers on a steering wheel;
the line of a closed mouth;
the precise angle of eyelashes --
I can divine sorrow, anger, love, rage;
all the varied flavors of silence.

I have been trained in this since birth;
a disciple of a stern faith.
I can express anger as I place my hands in my pockets;
grief while buttoning my shirt;
affection in the angle of my shoulders.

But other disciples are rare --
I have never met a mistress of this faith --
someone who can read "I love you" in the tilt of my head
or "I am frightened" as I lace up my boots.

NOTE: Date of writing is approximate; I wrote it sometime in 2001, according to my notes. But exactly when? My notes are silent.