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In The Eye Of
by Anita MacShall I
shall I
shall I
ever know... you?
I sit here
starry-eyed
like some Renaissance
near-angel
in your eyes.
content to be looked at,
loathed to be touched.
But I am jaded and
beauty is beauty and
you cannot see
you cannot see...
You cannot See me
teary-eyed
like some societal
misplacement,
hating to be looked at,
longing to be touched.
(If just to know
my skin is not really
so white-hot with
rages past.)
02/06/2008 Posted on 02/06/2008
Copyright © 2024 Anita Mac
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 02/10/08 at 01:16 AM this is powerful. wow. brilliant i adore it |
| Posted by Mara Meade on 02/10/08 at 10:20 PM Christina stole my superlative; powerful. This is that, indeed. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 03/28/13 at 06:58 PM Your library has been transformed into an epic saga; this episode is more revelation than renaissance to me; you, but not exclusively yours... |
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