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The Eyes of March
by Melanie McConnell
 (c)anthony james leahy
I painted your divine features.
Dipped the brush, with a brazen stroke
lifted you a croissant brow.
Drew your lips into a creme de la kiss
with my wand of sparkles.
Dabbed my finger,
swooshed you a nose.
But there was always that shadow
behind your eyes.
I wanted to swirl colors around them
to let the world know the way it felt
when you looked at me.
Obsessed with them,
I couldn't leave you alone.
What was round, squared.
It happened in the skuttle of night.
I plucked them out of your face,
set them in that blank space.

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