C h a r l e s  
D a r n e l l


On Viewing Vermeer’s Girl

Your eyes, so anxious
as you gaze over your left shoulder.
Red lips parted, as if you are
about to speak,
about to ask,
“Is this right? Do I look okay?”
The pearl shines in the dark
angle between chin and neck.
You shine in the dark
corner of this, my world.






























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