Wednesday, 10 February 2016

IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR

In front of me a man contemplates deeply
Gazing at my blood shot eyes as I into his
Seeking vainly not to reveal what’s amiss
He tries to smile to dismiss any eventuality

Those are the eyes that first saw her
How celestial her beauty was-still is
And cracked lips which she did kiss
And every piece of him became astir

Behind those eyes, a brain that never ceased
To find things of awe and wander each day
Some to describe wouldn’t be enough a day

I loved her, knowing that I often eased

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