A*

If I could paint,

I would paint;

Your face.

There is something about your face.

A force

Uncanny

Something:

                               Curious.

It's your skin.

The skin:

                               The clarity.

The porcelain.

I won’t dare touch.

My hands have a unique tendency-

Tendency to break -

To break things -

Things beautiful.

Sometimes I think God gave me the power to destroy,

Because he forgot to give me the ability to create.

Close your eyes, and

Touch here:

Your forehead

                                  and there:

Around your eyes.

There are no lines.

                                  You have no lines,

                                  around your eyes.

I never knew it possible to have a face,

So Young

                                   And,

So lacking,

                                   Any trace of:

Expression.

Possible for someone,

Like you.

Someone so:

So sad.

For eyes like yours,

Eyes that glow.

Eyes that reek of;

                                  Sorrow.

Such sorrow.

So trapped,

So buried,

                                    Almost,

So loudly,

So begging:

                                    Let me out -

                                    Let me go -

But you won't cry.

You never cry.

There is something about your face.

An uninterrupted:

                                     Resistance.

 Remains,

 Unused,

                                      Almost

Spared.

A leather couch

So graceful -

No one sits on

Cruises -

From one gallery

To another

Simply and

Only

                                       For display.

Lasts, forever

New.

But I look at you so close

So close

Close enough

I can see.

                                         Your eyes:

How worn.

How lonely

How old

In how little time.

Your face -

Troubles me -

How much it -

Fascinates me.

Your face:

So silent.

The silence,

So deafening,

Perhaps...

I fall?

                                            Almost -

In love.