In Your Eyes
In your dark eyes she saw the cold disdain.
Gave her such pause, there was no refrain.
Coaxed out of hiding, so confidently.
Her heart, her spirit, her song finally free.
She'd come full circle, her past to today.
Looked to your guidance for part of the way.
Secured by the words, she felt reassured.
No motives oblique, nor hardly obscured.
Emboldened by trust, her deepest desire.
A confession too close, returned with your ire.
You would not accept the woman laid bare.
Quickly tossed aside, with nary a care.
Through hurt and sorrow, heaviness of thought.
Words misconstrued, was not her love you sought.
Unknown by her, what you had hoped to gain.
Shrewdly deceived, she retreated in pain.
That so few words caused a confidante lost.
For such a high price, she questioned the cost.
Whether loved, or not, t'wasn't what mattered.
Betrayed of heart, a friendship was shattered.
Now she sees a sanctuary of lies,
And all because of the look in your eyes.
francesca wms.
francesca’s taut, clean style tends to “cut to the chase” of an emotional moment. From the concise storytelling of Hands, to the “poem quilt” subtlety of 50, the precise imagery of Snowflakes, and the cleverly biting elegance of Eyes, one may realize there’s meticulous craftworking at hand. Thoughtful choices allow her narratives to flow with a natural effortlessness. And apparently, francesca’s twisted sense of humor plays well with others:
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Look
I found your machete.
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Note: Succinctly tells the story of a younger lesbian coming out of the closet to an older straight female friend she believed she could trust. Instead, the friend rejects her.
Relatable on many levels.