Painting of a Smile
A painting of a smile within a painting of a girl,
Eyes have known pain,
Flesh, flesh.
A ringed hand raises a cup to cratered lips parted And wine trickles through wordless orifice Through a body of no one’s knowing.
The ringed hand chops down And the cup explodes upon the table.
Silence follows.
Across the room the painting smiles Or perhaps it is a painting of a smile.
Outside, many years ago,
A light storm.
Her face.
Fingers clawed the clay.
Dawn diminishes the cold photon fire That flies from rusted wheels of trains Crashing through my windows.
I walk through Hilbert space Infinity glued to my skin.
God gambles at my feet with a Roman For my seemless word.
Out! I cry with vanished desire.
Darkness creeps backwards
Facing the Dawn and bowing now and then.
I begin to sag against infinity Strangling softly, strangely.
Women weeping.
Then I see her for a moment Silhouetted lightly on a tall cliff.
Her thin arms rising and falling To some percussion in my head.
An alien familiarity.
Her eyebrows are raised slightly And her mouth is a straight line.
She directs something,
Something I barely feel.
I can feel it now more than before. It is her intention.