As a writer each face I see in passing
Each businessman hunched over his computer
Each little girl in a pretty dress
Each hurried parent running fingers though tangled hair
Becomes a character in my head
A story to be created and molded

Green eyes become fields
While blue eyes become oceans
Each feature is a description in a story
That I may one day write

Don’t ever think for a second you are safe
Don’t think that I only use stranger’s faces
Each person I meet is a character on a page
Three dimensional until I find a pen
Your skin was the color of mocha
Hers the color of milk

Her eyes were geysers of blue and green
Yours were the Earth from which flowers grow
We were an 80’s love story
That could never last