"The One With The Lights"

"The One With The Lights" 

She peers over her shoulder occasionally. 

When turning her head,
it looks like she is daring
her past to catch up to her.
New her.
Newer.
Never knew her
but I almost wish I had.
I'm sure her past was as alluring
as the present she displays with grace. 

One glimpse of her face
and I commit her to memory.
Symphony of billowing leaves
whisper rhythm in her stroll.
Delicate yet in control.
Not defined by role
or how others may perceive her.
I believe her. 

Believer I've become in her presence
in the most perfectly possible essence
of effort displaced without twisting one's face.
Her countenance holding firm
to dreams one can't pretend to conjure.
She knows triumph and forfeiture
but will shy away from
an open display of either. 

I
Need
Her.

Like lust was the conclusion forgone
positioned well within a zone
next to awe, admiration
and other indications of desire. 

She is the fire that I presume
does not intend to consume
but rather to serve as a plume
on which all surrounding is illuminated.
I've found myself drawn to her luster
with more intrigue that one would muster
for what took three forevers to grasp. 

Hands clasp as she speaks gently.
Wondered if she would befriend me
or think that I'm strange...
Maybe she'll find that endearing.
In the clearing of busy streets
cluttered with faces to greet,
everyday existence in all its volume
appears meaningless without her inclusion. 

Like nothing I've ever witnessed...
She is distinction.
Whilst life struggles to climb the rungs,
she is true ascension.
That next dimension.
My paradise
although I'll likely never earn
disclosure of her sacrifice. 

If emotion lined her wrists,
she would enlist resistance
in the form of her penchant
for persistence in squalls.
Calls from the caring
blaring as she passes by.
Few would trust a try
merely for the sake of wonder

and she is wondrous to me. 

Mystique of modern art
in the form of thick lips,
French tips and milky skin
encapsulating within
a mind that knows no limit
to what it will discover.
She is the marvel never uncovered
that hovers over frequently.
Mystery I do not wish to solve
for the sake of being involved and infatuated.
Saturated along my path
are remnants of her last stroll
and I see everything around me
under these broken light poles.... 

Mercy Me. 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz