Friday, April 15, 2011

The Gallery Face...

The Gallery Face

Frozen, no awareness of space nor time
Silhouettes circling, passing
You sit unaffected, silent, still, beautiful
Staring through an image of unkept paint
You see not what I do, not what he does, you see beyond
You have become it, in it
I wonder how, long to know how
Each stroke a word, the face a sentence, portrait a story
It speaks to you, you respond, smile serenely
Hurrying to sketch before the image is gone
A line, an arc, a brow, smudge
Painter to artist, a marriage in time
Though a thousand years pass and stand frozen between
It is only him that is with you
No mention of the onlooker floating behind
Peering silently over shoulder, breath down your spine
Awe of the woman you are,
Daring to know you, scared to be with you
Competing with a canvas for a moment in time
Stepping back, observance, love
A forbidden threesome only he can see
He brushes past you and floats on
Your only heart bound to the page, to the paint
A line, a hair, a head
You create to remember
You create to forget
A final stroke, eyes still motionless
They speak with you, subtle words, honest words
An elastic snaps silently, blinking becomes still
Sounds like the wildest storm, without a single word
What you found you fear you've lost
I assure you not
We watch, motionless, captivated
Your movements soft, falling from atop, floating from below
It is in this moment
Forever here, forever gone
Pencil encased, another white sheet washed
Drowned in the memory, the moment
The light recedes, your heart dims though never black
One touch
Reaching for you, through you
In you we all dance on


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