Not of This Parrish

I read the screenplay that you stepped from, Off the vellum sheets of winter snow, A hood of white fur framed your face, When the outside world struck five below. Your blue-eyes traced by black mascara, And wide mouth dusted cherry pink, The perfect skin of sheer structure, I stared in fear my eyes would blink. Translated signals from your movements In the grainy streets of black and white, A shot of film noir pricked my nerves, And flocks of angels took to flight. Flecks of snow snagged on your lashes, Twinkled diamond-like and pale, I loved you then and now and always, And yet such love to no avail. Not of this place, not of this Parrish, From somewhere wild I cannot find, Not of this place, not of this Parrish, A wraith that flickers through my mind. And you are lost from skewed decisions, That I have made and can’t undo, And every day I dream and ponder, Regretful cost of losing you.