Connoisseur

Note: this poem is in the form of 'bref double' but they don't have it on the list. You are a connoisseur of wine and eyes Are you looking at me, through me, or past me? A living ghost with formidable prowess Or is sight in your head and are you blind? Though your intention is to render a scene Art is in the eye of the beholder of thine The stories that you tell by sitting so serene Form the labyrinth to unravel in your mind. The desert of your hair is swallowed by famished skies They are an inky throbbing throat of greed Each swell of hair a mound of desert gone to seed Wild man you are redeemer to your kind Are you an artist or is art your disguise? The famished skies render you powerless