I found a sketch
I did
of your face.
I am careful
as my fingers pinch the edge
feeling the straight line
one hand separating from the other.
I start from the top
and end in the bottom.
going the same direction as
us.
I am careful
as I rip away the shreds of you.
careful to destroy every semblance
to the face I tried to capture.
for the honesty that existed there
was one that my own hands
and eyes
added
and it is
in the mass of the irregular
white pieces
and gray lines
that I see the truth of you.
I grasp the pieces in my palms
and clasp
and feel
as they rest in the spaces
between my fingers
it is in this mass
of shapeless nothingness
that I begin to really feel
you.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
I found a sketch
I did
of your face.
I am careful
as my fingers pinch the edge
feeling the straight line
one hand separating from the other.
I start from the top
and end in the bottom.
going the same direction as
us.
I am careful
as I rip away the shreds of you.
careful to destroy every semblance
to the face I tried to capture.
for the honesty that existed there
was one that my own hands
and eyes
added
and it is
in the mass of the irregular
white pieces
and gray lines
that I see the truth of you.
I grasp the pieces in my palms
and clasp
and feel
as they rest in the spaces
between my fingers
it is in this mass
of shapeless nothingness
that I begin to really feel
you.
