I knocked on the door of her soul br peered into its window br tried to see her there at the table br where she sits each day; br I listened for her heart beats br tried to divine her secret place br her mystery needs. br br But no; br my trek and voyeurism br came to naught; br she kept all her secrets in her pillow keep br and I had at last br to knock her door br and wait for her to turn the lock br peer out br and ask br 'Hi, do I know you? ' br She did not; but my eyes had fixed her br many times br and she knew them, their gaze. br br She looked at me- br looked at my eyes- br beginning to slowly recognize br they had sought her many times. br br I hoped they could speak for me br that they could communicate what words could not convey. br But, I could only stand there and allow proximity br to inveigh what I could not, make my silence speak; br place my soul in the palm of my hand br for long seconds br while she looked and looked br a puzzle-stranger at her door. br br She finally said. br 'Come in, have something to drink; I have made some tea. br br I think she recognized me finally br as someone who from afar br had given her their heart br and she was kind enough br not to slam the door br on it br and I. br br It was not love br but kindness here br but that dear reader br is what allows True Love in the door br and she did. br And that was the main thing I needed to know about her br and that was what made me love her. br first from afar br and now br up close.