August 5, 2008
i miss her
slight, roughed lips
arranged in a half smile
upturned nose
just so
not prim but pretty
everything about her
is frail, like pine needles
or pacified English ladies
her face is saved from
by two clusters
of freckles
one gracing each cheek
forehead bare, pins in hair
she sits with uncanny posture

i wake and miss
eyes spring blue
take in blank walls
and think
surely its not
so strange
to love a painting

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