His eyes set far apart, his range of vision though short was wider around than most.
His looking at me, with his beard pulled down, almost to the grass, his nostrils flaring through black skin.
The breath could almost reach me, filling my face with his, the superiority, the brashness and cold thoughts.
He stood there with such calmness, so much to like, so much fear to believe, watch him stare,
Watch him live, deep breath, pausing, to hold his time, in his moment.
Ralph E Peck
Photography by Deana Keklikian Spyres
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