Monday, April 11, 2005
the goldfish girl
she didn't say a word. just gazed. watching so intensely that at the proper angle i could see the images imprinting on the back of her grand round eyes- like a starving, unblinking vacuum of a black hole, drawing in everything they could focus on. her attention darts in every direction, leaving nothing unseen for long; refusing to miss a moment that passed around her. everything seen, seconds later, was new again for the first time.
her face can only be described as abbreviated. from forehead to chin, you could measure the same distance from ear to ear. in profile she angled from the vertex tip of her gold-flake freckled nose, to her ruddy chin and platinum hairline.
i watch her feet and arms, weightless and willowy, as they sway to the gentle rocking of the bus. it was as if she had never used them, nor even noticed they were part of her.
a quiet extroversion, she is demure in her fearless curiousity. i smile to myself as she peaks over the newspapers and shoulders of the other riders, sliding in and between conversations without acknowledging that she is noticed.
i wonder what she is thinking.
i wonder where she is going when i catch my own reflection in her glassy stare. her sharp movements halting as if something in my face was not new to her. she swims toward me in a hypnotized earnestness as if she has a secret for me, but never knowing until this moment.
the bus dings and the message is lost.
it's my stop.
Post a Comment
Powered for Blogger by Blogger Templates
her face can only be described as abbreviated. from forehead to chin, you could measure the same distance from ear to ear. in profile she angled from the vertex tip of her gold-flake freckled nose, to her ruddy chin and platinum hairline.
i watch her feet and arms, weightless and willowy, as they sway to the gentle rocking of the bus. it was as if she had never used them, nor even noticed they were part of her.
a quiet extroversion, she is demure in her fearless curiousity. i smile to myself as she peaks over the newspapers and shoulders of the other riders, sliding in and between conversations without acknowledging that she is noticed.
i wonder what she is thinking.
i wonder where she is going when i catch my own reflection in her glassy stare. her sharp movements halting as if something in my face was not new to her. she swims toward me in a hypnotized earnestness as if she has a secret for me, but never knowing until this moment.
the bus dings and the message is lost.
it's my stop.
Post a Comment