the whirring of the wheels
led his lazy look above
seeing the sun rest on closed lids
and her silver-painted hair creating
artistry on her shadowed shoulders.
the grudging halt of the bus
and those lashes fluttering open. looking away,
the image of her ebony ensemble
burning into his mind.
as he rolled away she would never notice how
he watched her as she slept.

Colored paper fool.
Crowing coward face the waif.
Gaze of hungry eyes.

With wearied ways the air looks grey
It's colour stains surrounding planes
Heavy clouds weigh eyelids down
Condensed to rest as momentum slows
Mellow tones and energy spent
Low on conversation goals
All but empty sentiments
No plans today, worn out to play
Sleep instead behinds your gaze
Dreaming to regenerate

Your eyes were always black as night

But when they lit up with a galaxy

I found myself lost

Floating, drifting along your sea of stars

Until I fell into your sun

Burning up in your gaze

I dissipated into the solar system of your smile

That was when I realized

Darkness was as beautiful as light

Smelling money
reach out to the stars.
Knowing why
they gaze down though
upon the deep dark earth
need to be richer
than material matters!

gaze into the glass
self-reflection is needed
what is it you sense

Brian Hill - 2020 # 161

The illusion is shifting again
The columns melting stone to blurred sand
Kiss the River bed, saturated nutrient flow
Estuary, opposites mixing like friends

Meeting our ends, meeting our ends
The Compost heap rots and withers,
In preparation to add to the cycle again
The moment is fleeting
Gather, pull the light close to your Chin
Hold it on the sides of its head
And gaze, gaze deeper and deeper again

life, for her, was a masquerade ball.
her purse was full of colorful masks.
each mask was carefully crafted,
designed to impress everyone else.
she was always watchful
with one hand in her purse
so she could switch masks.

he walked into the ballroom,
slowly approaching her.
she took off her mask,
fumbling in her purse
for a different one.
he caressed her arm
and shook his head.

the breeze tickled her face 
for the first time during the ball.
he quietly gazed into her eyes,
smiled to calm her racing heart,
then pressed his lips to her cheek.
they danced for the rest of the ball,
and her masks were never seen again.

He keeps looking.
Like I'm something for the taking.
The way he's staring at me dancing
Gets me thinking, I should stop.

No concrete action, no kind of evidence,
Just a rise of the hairs,
A sort of indescribable sense,
Warning bad intentions are by,
Stay quiet and put and shy.

Maybe if I cover more,
Maybe if I show a little less,
Maybe if I look away,
And keep ignoring all the rest,

Maybe it's what I have to do.