The Face

While walking through a street I crossed a girl,

Seeing her my mind was incessantly caught in a whirl.

It was what “WE” call as the uncanny, eldritch love,

A momentarily pleasure which always is a bleak bluff.

The face was mottling behaving as a sweet ruse

I felt enthuse at times and at times I was left in blues.

The image in my mind , I wanted to preserve as a stunted bonsai

I wanted to disappear with it saying this world a good-bye.

The mellifluous lisp of hers could soothe a treacherous Troy

The melancholy there in- she can bring back the joy.

Friends its difficult to efface “ the face” from my mind,

I am just living with the image, this girl is left far behind.