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Friday, October 29, 2010

an image of her

she has an image. she had one, but unwittingly i destroyed it, and now she has an image, once more, and it haunts me. it was the first time i saw her, and i couldn't stop looking even though i really wanted to, and it just died off from there.

her eyes are closed, softly, without a furrow in the brow, as she always does. there are no lines, save for those which shape her face, and even those disappear momentarily and reappear suddenly. in her arms she holds something, carefully, tenderly, without the slightest trace of awkwardness that i hold my breath for; i realize i'm always holding my breath, always waiting for some external assailant to break the silence that i never do hear or see. but he never comes.

and the train of thought always comes screeching to a halt here, because i see a person behind her, face with an expression the splitting mirror image of hers, except that it's mine and i balk at this set-up which materializes in my mind's eye.

_'Jx]- faded at 2:12 PM