She said…

she said:
don’t you like the colour of my eyes?
drops of sea-blue-on-a-sunny-day in this ocean of a face,
windows of the soul…cold now.
painted up like a hans belmer poppet,
lips and lips …predictable…uncanny?
(you never could explain that concept)
uncomfortably familiar? uncomfortably strange?…
…numb now,
frozen by all this inner gazing.