Plaza De Mayo
Buenos Aires 1995

by Ray Bianchi


The curve of a woman's knee
Crossed
Beneath an elegant silk dress.
   I look at her and inquire, with my mind

When encountering another, who is strangely familiar
A face that haunts and gives you the dryness
In your mouth, like a fifteen year old
Boy.

Hands move Expressingly?
Touching all, so tactile
Talking, for hours she stays,
As I sit alone watching
The cigarette smoke
Float  above her head

The coffee scent.
Ascends to my nose
I look about the room.

Pen to paper, Scratching
For the right note.
The wide expressiveness
Of full, rich lips
And loud laughs Of ink

Filling a new passion
As I observe
Mind opera, creates a Unknown.
story

Mind Opera decides where to go
Is this La Boheme?
Or La Traviata?
In my minds eye.
Playing out the scene, as I pretend
To write, Stanzas.







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