My Eyes The Words

The very object of an art, the principle of its artifice, is precisely to impart the impression of an ideal state (…).

 

— Paul Valéry, The Art of Poetry 

 

 

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I hear footsteps upstairs

feelings of dread along

sight of my reflection

my eyes the words

are just blurred

I shut the door

shut my eyes

cold tears 

this is not

right, but

I cannot

follow

you 

 

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***

 

Peter Bies © 2010

 

***

 

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