FOR THE RIGHT MOMENT

time, standing still; stealth laid bare, ours only to pacify
out of a split second we, kept in a trance, we
watch her pose, turn, stare back into the camera's eye

offered up she, with a look, her face  iridescence reflected
she, one eyed; Rita Hayworth, hair lost in skew
similar unfamilar, red-dressed silhouette, mirage detected

within a non shadow, filtering exposed, camera's focus explained
by the trick of light, she stays unfazed, to our dilema
she is poised; in a pantomime-as the mystery of; remains

displayed in negative rolls of film; to mock more the light
we are held in captivity, where she holds her court
into; out of body, precise is she, left anon in black on white

her face like an angel, or a devil in disguise
coyed in voyueristic servitude, our hands are tied
if we believe in truth,  willing to succumb to the lie

as we continue to watch; caught up in the freeze frame
with no where left to hide, she like a whisp, ghost like using
no words, not a sound, just sans a smile, in which to blame

waiting for the right moment, unattainable, in voices un-evolved
she stays defiant, steeley eyed in temptation, diligent, her essence
not revealed; she remains, whole- hearted to break our resolve  


By Michael Perry