To others a stranger, to me an embodiment of art

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What is the word for when people glance as they pass
see it empty and give a sigh?
His dark hair reaches the tailored shoulders of his blue blazer
left stylishly open over a crisp white shirt
standing amongst the crowd in a corner, you can tell he’s bored
his long limbs straight and his head held high,
there are stories hidden in the pupils of his eyes,
stories of war, of death, of trauma and love that have been passed down.
A vacuum of desire that cannot easily be filled,
burns inside his chest as outside the sky is caressed by rain
to others a stranger, to me an embodiment of art
I wonder what fresh burden he harbors inside his heart?
The dance floor is a map of yesteryear’s defeats and triumphs,
and God watches on as we reveal our cards
craving the scent of his showered skin, I sway along with other dancers,
hiding behind masks of emotional armour.

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Posted on Weekend Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads

Also posting on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

44 thoughts on “To others a stranger, to me an embodiment of art

  1. Kim M. Russell says:

    That’s an interesting question to begin your portrait, Sanaa, and it’s left me wanting to find out the answer. I like the close detail of your subject’s clothes and attitude, and I love the thought of the ‘stories hidden in the pupils of his eyes’. I also love the line:
    ‘The dance floor is a map of yesteryear’s defeats and triumphs’,
    which gives me the impression that your subject is a Casanova.

  2. Judy Dykstra-Brown says:

    A fanciful portrait spun from scant evidence. Well done, Kim. I’m intrigued by the first line, but wonder what “it” is that they find empty. Is it the answering glance from the person they pass? “There are stories hidden in the pupils of his eyes.”–wonderful line.

  3. Rommy says:

    This feels like something from an Austen novel. An aloof young man, too caught up in himself to notice there’s someone noticing *him*. I think it will take more than one dance to find the chinks in the emotional armor.

  4. Helen says:

    ‘His dark hair reaches the tailored shoulders of his blue blazer left stylishly open over a crisp white shirt’ .. I also thought of Jane Austin and went into kind of a trance. Wouldn’t it have been lovely to have had a glance? Beautiful write.

  5. Bjorn Rudberg says:

    I love this… it seems from a time long ago while you still met in places like this … make me think of Jane Austen

  6. Mary says:

    Ah, hiding between masks of emotional armour – I really think you have set the scene well. A poem of mystery and perhaps intrigue.

  7. Wendy Bourke says:

    Love those ‘stories hidden in the pupils of his eyes’ … wonderful line (a gal might get lost in there) ~ smiles ~ As always: a beautiful piece of writing!

  8. Old Egg says:

    As we grow older we become far more experienced in the war of love as we then better armed with gentle words of persuasion rather than acts of bravado, leaving no doubt of ones sincerity and trustworthyness. I really enjoyed your entertaining write Sanaa.

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