It is like a selective camera
which only captures certain
things
as if you were the only thing
in this entire world
and that your sunbathed face
and disarming smile
were all that I could recall
as if they could run obsessively
in loops, forever -
and if you could ask any detail of those days
I could not remember any other
than your sparkling eyes
which will haunt me forever –
as if those cruel and taunting stars
were worth more than any other recollection,
than any other
dream
Friday, May 13, 2011
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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.
- Emily Dickinson