The bristles of her brush migrate across the canvus,
Fast strokes of her hand trace the shadows of her reflection.
A bumblebee of yellow,
A tree of green, hurried by a flash of red.
Outlining the curvature of her face.
Quickly dotting the pupils of her eyes, she painted them blue.
Those ocean's with nowhere to go.
Suddenly,
The brush imprints deeper.
She's reminded of him.
Too much emphasis is put under her right eye.
The left eye stares.
Wondering if anyone would notice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem