I like snapping pictures of statues
With stone eyes and locked smiles
In place of the waves
Peaking and crashing in our souls;
Translating through film
In technicolor beauty
Flickering in greying tones.
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Tag: eyes
Little Doll
When I was young,
Wandering the French Quarter,
I picked up a little doll.
It was straw,
Scraps of fabric sewn,
Haphazardly strewn,
Over my little loves eyes.
Then I met you,
The music in my soul.
The doll grew old.
We were young,
Self narrating stories meant for two.
Our love grew blue
Like jazz on a rainy day
Or soul songs in a minor key.
The little doll,
Rife with Orleans memories,
Became a hated thing.
In blind passion
I ripped and tore,
Never realizing it held my score.
Now I’m torn,
Shreds of skin and bone,
Hanging bare.
Finally you’re home.
What’s the matter dear?
Are you scared?
Am I not beautiful enough
With my haphazardly strewn skin
Sewn over my eyes?
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Everyone Can See
WordPress Daily Prompt – Tender
Tender tones disguised as conversation,
Can’t be hidden when our eyes meet.
Everything melts towards isolation,
I’m sure everyone can see.
Seconds crawl by giving pause to breathe.
Words stuck somewhere between you and I
Despite the struggle they can not be freed.
I’m sure everyone can see.
It no longer matters what we were before,
Or where we believed our paths to lead.
As the moment inches to a close,
I’m sure everyone can see.
