Act One:
Sips of semi-sweet wine
Soft soft lights
A teasing smile that was the sweetest
Bravado in place of inhibitions
An old technique
Seeing her for the first time
The room fell out of focus
I had to readjust my frame/ lens
The polaroid just lay there
Unable to capture my excitement
The frozen images only told of the past
I feared they would melt away
The windows to my soul
Dark as they be
Gave way
She just stood there
Wearing nothing
Just a smile and confidence
She needed nothing
Wearing a full ensemble
She has her faults
But I saw no cracks
Sensuality had a new master
It was the last moment of peace
The work was subtle yet captivating
Strokes of ivory
Accented by strands of brunette
With a pair of golden orbs
I pray that this moment doesn’t pass yet
Her touch frees the mind
And captures the attention
Her smile calms the anxiety
The sum of her parts confound me
Solomon the wise
And Einstein himself made simple
Her and I are the product
I have no need to comprehend
I’m content to just appreciate her
Act Two:
She’s royalty
And I’m subjected
A witness to her beauty
She stands in view
But lingers out of reach
I take step
It was quite an adventure
I’m not sure if she moved too
Or if it was all me
Either way the space was closer
And the hands moved slower
The smoothness of her face
Her lips giving way to mine
How do you define honey/sugar?
After that kiss
I wouldn’t waste your time
The colours begin to bleed
Coming together
The polaroid prints begin to melt
Digits scaled the mountains
And dove for the depths of the canyon
Insecurities masked by being wanted
Nothing mattered
Only you
The agenda was the same
But I lost my focus along the way
Same craft new equipment
The process had a different name
Prometheus could catch light
But how do you compare a flicker
To a roaring flame
You need more than a demigod’s might
I got a hit of her cocaine
Went to bed high
And woke up singed
I’m darker now
Just taking care of my extra heat
Act Three:
It’s a melting pot
Made up of a multitude of imperfections
A combination of time, friendship, hedonism and more
The hunger acknowledged
However the palette was left wanting
The demons begged
Yet the angels praised the work
Can beauty be condemned?
No matter the light or medium
The night was the artist
And the brush
Our souls were the canvas
It’s a trilogy of sorts
Though I think triptych Is more fitting
What better way to call these moments
The past, the now, and the unknown
A collage making up each scene
All I know are the strokes I’ve made
The touches of Midas
And the errors of a Faux Pas
The blinding hubris I’ve created
And the ill placed crippling humility
Not sure of the quality image
The experience left new scars
They appear as lines on a road map
I have yet to decide
If they lead to something worse
Or better
That night left a little flicker in me
You could say
I’m enlightened