Statuesque

Your eyes, troubled this evening,
Turn away from me to escape
In sleep as the night slips
Into a pre-dawn glow
The look of skim milk
Left on the counter too long
Sick plastic translucence
Your hair hanging in tangles
Obscures the look in your eyes
I want to reach out with my fingers
Brush aside those tresses where you hide
And make you exposed, vulnerable
Like this need creeping outside of me
When I look at the fragility
In your blue-veined hands
The sorrow their movements convey
I want to know if you feel
Like cool, smooth marble
All that sadness trapped in statue
All those publicized secrets
Exposed for centuries.

02/25/1999

Posted on 01/12/2003
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