She Is Like A Painting


She is like a painting

I cannot help but look at her

Our eyes met for a minute

I experienced the joy I could never find

Then she turned away as if

It was another awkward eye contact

With another stranger

She is like a painting

I like her hair

Ebony black hair with beautiful

Natural streaks of hazelnut brown

Lightly curled at the ends like ringlets of fire

Flowing with the wind

That does not make her uncomfortable

She enjoys her hair massaging her full cheeks

Those red apples with a permanent blush

She is like a painting

Her forehead is broad and

Her eyebrows are thick and strong

Like a leader- a man destined to greatness

That is so unladylike but so adorable

Sometimes those eyebrows define

Her entire character

She is like a painting

Her nose is small but straight

Almost like a bridge to heaven

On the bridge lay her spectacles

Bejeweled on the sides

Hiding her shy deep eyes

That deep deep brown hue

Sometimes looks black

And has spokes of blue

She is like a painting

Her mouth is small

Her lips are full

Tightly pursed together

The lower lip a little bigger

Almost looking like an invitation for love

She is like a painting

Her chin is small with a small pear-like dent

There is a small but strong black mole there

With aligns itself with a mole

On the tip of her nose

And another on the forehead

She is like a painting

She speaks like she is singing

She sings like she is dancing

Her face is full of a million expressions

I don’t understand what she means

When she looks at me for a second

And looks away…

I think I saw her smiling

She is like a painting

Any painter would love to draw her image

The curve of the end of her lips

Her deep set eyes

Her eyebrows that move when she speaks

Her eyes that suddenly start glittering

She is like a painting

I look at her but she does not look at me

I enjoy her sight as she sits there

Looking into the infinite

Searching for something, looking for someone

I wish I was that someone

I wish she smiled at me

She is like a painting

She is still lost in thoughts

And I am still lost in her

Painter I am not

But a writer I am

Trying to describe a face

That will stay with me till the end of my life.

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