Mirror, Mirror. Paula Byrne
her beauty in cold marble. Draped in black silk, Mother slowly removed her robe, revealing her milk-white body from shoulder and neck, the camera then dropping to reveal her naked legs. It was one of the most daring scenes in movie history.
Now that I’m old, I love to look back at that film, and witness Lacy’s love for my mother. I wonder why she is so often compared with a statue. Perhaps because statues never grow old. I won’t say because she was as cold as marble. That would be unfair. Lacy was so handsome, so English. The first man I really loved. Who made me feel safe.
Lacy encouraged me to read the Song of Songs, telling me that it contained some of the most beautiful language ever written about the love between man and woman. He told me that first love was precious and pure. He explained that this was the way he thought about my mother. One day, he trusted, my first love would feel this way about me. Ever-dutiful, I took out my bible.
I am my beloved, and my beloved is mine.
He feeds among the lilies.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth – for his love is more beautiful than wine.
Her breasts are twin fawns.
I opened for my beloved, but my beloved had left.
Lacy was right. It was the most moving description of love that I had ever heard. My mother was so darned lucky that a man like Lacy loved her so passionately. I wondered what first love might be for me. To this day, I am relieved that Lacy never discovered the truth.
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