Stumbling through another day in the life
A usual routine, almost comical in its repetitiveness
In an environment of all too familiar faces,
Ingrained in my recent memory, but sparking
Nothing more than my acknowledgment of their presence.
Alas, another face protrudes into my field of vision,
One I remember from ancient memory
I would naturally think nothing of it.
But somehow, I fail to glance beyond it.
Its continuous curvature; skin and bones
Assembled so precisely as to be a Renaissance
artist’s dream. Its fantastical fluidity;
The glorious features so perfectly placed as if the
Work of a master mathematician.
My fixed eyes feel tied, absolutely immovable,
As prisoners tied to shackles.
With features beyond compare; an anomaly gleams
Through a crowd of grey.
God, we’ve been through this before.
Emotions of Rumination
Maddox Hallums
9