I sit still
Behind wispy brushes
That cast the gloominess away
Enough to admire the beauty
Of this fragile azure trinket.

I sit still alone,
Behind wispy brushes
That act upon others
As forbidden territory,
As a sanctuary that’s
Mine, and mine alone.

I sit so anxiously
Behind wispy brushes
Observing the trinket.
What I can never grasp,
Dwindles before me;
I have claws
For hands and feet,
And the limelight
Blinds what was meant
To be a humiliating secret
If I get close enough.

If there ever was a day
To be recorded in infamy;
‘Twould be the day where
Stars sought new homes,
Tigers grew coarse and *****,
And villagers incinerated
Every fiber of my being
Behind such dapper azure faces
As too, my darling
Dancing wispy brushes

-Juan Carlos Gomez