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Simply beautiful (Free verse) by tre

My eyes are drawn to the beauty found in the simplicity of sleep, when lovers sleep beside each other. A perfect picture. A beautiful picture. Her, asleep on his chest. Him, watching over her. She sleeps soundly, eyes completely shut. Peaceful and comfortable against his body. She stirs, reaches for his hand to make sure it's still on her shoulder.. .which it is. She doesn't need to worry, his hand only reaches for her now. Like a painting I have seen a thousand times before, same subject, same form, only now the content has changed. I see it differently, objectively, my emotional ties have been cut loose. The picture is still of him and her, but I no longer have the same reaction. I don't feel irritation, fury, resentment. Resent the fact that he is with her instead of me. I smile. Now, I see the balance. Approximate Symmetry. They aren't exactly the same, she's a runner, he's a swimmer. Her long, blond hair. His, short and dark. But they are athletes, one and the same. Same friends, same lifestyles, same early morning practices. I finally see the balance, the beauty they form together. A perfect composition, aesthetically pleasing to the eye. I no longer want to interject myself into this image I'm looking at, I wouldn't fit, I wouldn't belong. Something extra, unneccessary. An ungly paint blotch that fell onto the beautiful artwork. An extra area of negative space. Too much white on a colorful canvas. Or am I too much color? Either way, they are positively perfect. There is no place for me, there on his chest, where she lays now, comfortably and peacefully. His chest holds no warmth for me, no peace, no comfort. The fire between us has cooled, and the flame is lit only for her now, the flame she re-ignited in his heart. I would only feel an uncomfortable, icy chill, asleep on his chest. An akward atmosphere. Our bodies would form an unbalanced composition, a confusing message. I am getting used to them together. They make sense, they belong. Together they form what me and him never did... A perfect picture. A beautiful picture.

hypatia 22-Apr-04/1:57 PM
Good idea, but too wordy. Poetry should provoke thought, not tell everything, and definitely not repeat anything.




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