Poetry Journal: A face I can't forget Jan. 2. 2024


 Her face is the same face, especially the eyes, gateway to a soul I have seen too many times in too many dreams, that surrealistic landscape where reality melts around our knees, her face, the same face I flew to, a moth to a flame I can never resist and so, must always avoid, not because of who she is or what she does, but because of who I am and what I must never do, condemned to live life in an alternative reality which by necessity means excluding her, she, a dream I dreamt once and cannot cease to dream, untouchable, remote, wings folded behind her, I can only see the ever present eyes, looking now as they did then, flashing hints of endless possibilities.



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