you looking in the reflection

in the back of my laptop

numbering your imperfections

your hair

your skin you think is blemished enough

to name constellations on your skin

but I look at you

in my fur-trimmed coat

in the fog of the evening

as I capture your soul in my camera

all I see

is hair blown in beauty

and a soul unsatisfied

with the things of this world


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Filed under Free Verse, Written By guest writer Gwenyth

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