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By wistful Date: 2001 Jul 03 Comment on this Work [[2001.07.03.18.33.32417]] |
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Cautious and cool, she stands observing Scanning the masses, detached and aloof. As the crowd swirls past her in eddies of activity Eyes linger on her as they mill past Admiring her majestic beauty: Her crystaline eyes, her translucent skin. But no one dares approach too closely; No warmth escapes that cold blue gaze. Far below that icy stare, Torid currents of passion rush unseen Awash in depths no soul has plumbed, Churning and and melting her hidden reserves. If you catch her in that briefest moment, In just the right time, in just the right light, You'll see the façade break off to reveal A soul in torment, alone and untouched, A longing, an aching, a cry to be known, To be held, to be warmed in a gentle embrace. But too quickly the icy sheen recovers Encasing her in artic isolation. As the crowds swirl past her, Unseeing and unseen. |