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Your face

Another one pinned

To a crowded board

A transient skin

A mark on the wall

And a scratch on my conscience

A look that I’ve seen

And one that I’ve known

But never really felt before

Your face

Expression painted

Over and over

On a well worn canvas

Waiting and waiting

But never through choice

A mark on the clockface

Wiped over by hours

That never felt at all

Your face

Hung beneath the tower

Hidden in clear sight

Exposed in the dark

Waiting for the rapture

A sign that’s nothing more

Than a mark on the wall

A scratch on your conscience

You never felt before

Your face.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2018

 

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