poetry

X Sight
by Cesar Ruiz Aquino

Strange is your facelessness when I try
To picture you. You don’t jell –
Not the faintest image. Worse,
If I close my mind’s eye,
I might dream nothing.
What if I heard
Your name and it will ring no bell?

Stranger and stranger until I’d run
Into you and know of course
This must be why. Here
Is why. This face.
This sheer sight that leaves no trace.
This strangest thing
Now under the sun.

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