Behind the Curtain

I can’t see her face“, I thought. Just the end of a fair skinned nose. The only exposed piece of flesh against the curtain of beautiful hair, blood red. Her clothes were black. She was a mystery and I was attracted to it.

But with a jerk of the head, the curtain moved. She raised her hand and hung the curtain along the edge of a petite ear. I was lost then. Dizzy and confused with how intoxicating the exposed mystery was. Out of the recesses of my mind, I had chiseled together a porcelain face. A perfect image conjured from nothingness, intangible to describe. Now in the reveal, I found a real face to a real person; and I am embarrassed to have thought something else was hidden. She sends me a look of no concern and my mind tries to recover, but it’s too late to even smile or say a word.

I remained there for a moment longer as a new thought crept into my head. “She should have never worn those black socks“. Clinging tightly to her thighs, jeering at me, laughing and saying, “Look at me. Want what’s beneath me. Hate me when I’m gone.”


3164db_by_pascalcampion-d87qaesThe image for this piece was created by pascalcampion, titled “Natasha”. Please visit his site to see all his artwork;

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