February 20, 2013 § Leave a comment
Every minor detail of the face of things
How it breathe,
How it saw what it saw
Every word my problem spoke
Existing in sweet nothing.
That face meant the world to me
But it changed expressions so quickly.
I ran as fast as I could
But didn’t seem to catch up in time
It blurred in the distance
Disappearing in the fog
I found myself standing on a new island
Amist masked faces
Because that face had meant the world to me
The only face which I had studied so closely
Now the face of all things seemed very strange to me
Just like the face, which I lost in plea.