face growing dull in mirror, wane
dwindling content, wafered mass
emerald and golden dust covering the
taj mahal as blue blue birdies fly by.
look in her face, lady jesus, and see:
mercy for the wicked, grassland, heart
shaped chocolate, a painted portrait of
madre in the streets of barcelona 1970.
the semiopague face of loretta young,
pulls you into it. watching it's fragile
countenance under water, drawing,
you can't swim, you let go anyways.
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