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Rigo Torres Apr 2010
The mist obscured my view,
I couldn’t see anything but my hands.
The air was breezy and cool
And I had goose bumps on my arms.
Although my sight was blurry,
I could see the EYES
of the woman with fury.
She stared at me, without eyes,
but I knew she was looking at me.
I could sense her sight.
She was hungry for them.
I could see why she was furious.
All this time she had been a part of them
And yet she had been starved.
Starved of the reality she couldn’t see
without the EYES.
Starved of the world
around her.
Stripped…
of the beauty…
within her.

— The End —