The portrait

by Erika Byrne-Ludwig

Gestures we would like to make in the solitude of a café terrace ... Early in the morning ... She's sitting there, seems shivering. Grey dress, red scarf. Her eyes move. I try to meet them - small, vague black clouds which pass, without resting, by mine. She drinks her coffee, eats her cake. I wish she were a portrait. To admire it openly, without shifting my stare. With bewilderment if I felt so. But we can't explore a warm body, eyes that see, a mouth that eats and drinks, curls that twine and untwine on the shoulders ... I want to frame her entire image ... make her my prisoner, with my hands free to move, my lips to speak, without blushing ... Tell her crazy words inspired by the moment ...