Blink

            -"Saints" crafted by Jimmy Abbegg

Only faces I see- 
Smudge-edged and rough
Warm at their backs
Hung from a woven
Wrought iron fence

Grim eyed and
Waiting, perhaps
Wanting but only
Staring-their flat,
Colorless eyes catch
On mine and we
Do not blink for
The longest of
Time until my eyes collapse
And leak
And must be shut

They do and reopen-
The faces still there-
Etched in coal,
 It seems, though I
 Dare not chase my
Finger along the
Canvases to clarify-
I draw up on my
Toes, they crack
Slightly and I
Watched for the
Faces to react-
They didn't.

Rough ruby lips
Part as my questions
Whisper out
Were you not 
Once alive, be holding 
These expressions with 
Tiny-haired flesh 
Striving muscles pulling 
Against aching bones 
And emotion chasing 
In your blood? 
Did you not once have 
A body 
With hands, feet, rib cage 
And sturdy legs?
I rested against my
Heels again, feeling my own
Body thank me in relief
Glaring, intently, glaring
For the answer-
I turned abruptly
But stopped
Before me were the living
Faces- full body
Breathing, sucking air
Into their pink lungs I felt sure
A soft trimmer, a beat
Found itself in their hearts
Once dead- captured
With brush and ink and
Hung on a wrought iron fence
But now
Glistening, wet eyes- alive
Gazing up at themselves
Remembering, never wishing
To return