De-Parted
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Sharp is the knife that cuts as fine as her finest hair, separating cutaneous junk from crustaceous time; redefining shape and form; accelerating change; closing on horizons; unknowingly preparing eyes for tears. She smiles a wistful smile; is divinely unaware her last moment of normality is entering the lens – parallel proton lines diverging into time, captured on silicon permanently – as far as the eye can see. Sharp is the knife that cuts deep inside a parent heart, dividing sinew from sentiment, ventricle from heartache. Fine incisions to part evil from perfection – cellular dissection surgically exchanging months for years. Paper gains such value from one remaining image … evaporated ink, like dried blood, smeared in that special way. Pixels are all alone – brushed, rouge, as her cheek – painted, unparalleled, tragically mirroring fading dreams. © Allen Ansell 2008, 2023
Thoughtful and wonderful poem.
You can certainly see your writing skills in your work. All the time go after your heart.
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