Wyeth - The White Company
Waterhouse - Wind Flowers
Bok - nude in design
It was as if you had just left the room.
If I looked hard enough I swear I could
See the imprint of your heel on the carpet.
The door was slightly ajar, being held
By a breeze for a few moments, sunlight
Leaking into the room to dress the walls.
I stood up next to the bed waiting to hear
A voice, any voice that would indicate you
Had actually been there. I must have been
Sleeping, holding the ribbons of dreams
In my hands like precious myrrh or water.
When I looked across the room to the mirror
I could see you dissolving into its surface.
I must have been wrong. Such a thing is not