! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! The Face [for My Nee]

I have captured it in an invincible fort of a teardrop
A face like shifting sand
Moving and taking shape
Of named and yet to be dibbed desires
A face averaged out on catwalk
Of my dazzling city lights
A face that connects to limbs and flesh
That holds no challenge to
Limbs and flesh that becomes
Iliad, Taj Mahal or a war
It’s the face, the uneven lunar surface
Where light from suns of my eyes
spread evenly, divinely leaving me
Gasping fro breath, grasping for desires’
Mindless spread

by Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Martin

Comments (1)

UNIQUELY express... i like it. thanks for sharing.md