Obsession
Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Monday, November 24, 1997 (483)
ISSN 1482-0471
By Leila
The light hits your face;
Show how your square cheekbones
Converge to a point
Where I touch with my finger.
Only barely though, this
Concave globe seals you but
Inches from
Life.
I cannot control how I feel
Cannot help but look past
That shyish smile; the
Sweet inquiring eyes, that
Careless hair.
But you hurt me-you-
You saw nothing past that
Loud, ignorant, fickle-mindedness
For soft -- I only did that for
You.
So now you lie; seeing
Hearing, thinking none
The elegant countours, the
Parted lips-still
Melt my heart,
But,
That blanched face --
It holds no more power
To judge
This ill-fated
Obsession.
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