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I find myself staring into her eyes once more,
Watching her blonde curls fall gently onto her shoulders,
Watching her lips as they form a hint of a smile,
And watching her delicate hands clasp a glass of amber coloured wine.
Slowly, the sound of my mind fades away into the distance; as I stare into her deep brown eyes,
And lose myself again.

Until I notice how the paint runs thin across the canvas,
And how her eyes stare on unblinking and dead,
And how her hair falls across her shoulders just like brush strokes,
And then I notice the dim buzzing of the lights,
And the faint sound of the footsteps,
I look around.

Its 8 30 pm,
Closing in thirty minutes,

I walk away,
Light a cigarette,
Feel the cold evening air on my face,
Forget about her eyes, and her hair, and her lips,
And continue with my life.

But, I always return
Just to lose myself again.

© Billy Herklots 2013

*****

Todays featured poem is the second one from Billy Herklots we have featured. With his almost beat-style narrative, Billy shows us a scene familiar to the artist or the outsider. There is a deep appreciation of timeless beauty captured on canvas, and a brilliant analogy to unrequited love, which Billy presents to us in his dark, existentialist style. A supremely accomplished and captivating poem.

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