The Narcissus Halo
Peering into your eyes
is like witnessing
a Carravagio master
for the first time,
not quite clear,
hazy,
the Narcissus halo
reflecting in those
twin pools of deep
azure moire silk,
falling
into their reach
one remains
secure for a while,
above it all,
assessing
your cloud strewn
sun dappled rivers,
oh the temptation
of it all,
to touch what
lies untouched
underneath
below that shining
calmly moving
surface
carrying thoughts
and feelings along,
it's high tide,
the fingers gently touching
teasing the no go zone
rippling a wake,
break the anticipation,
the thrill wet and electric,
the gently touching, shocked,
pull back again, momentarily,
played like a puppet on a string,
like a harp being strummed,
like a bow and arrow aimed,
the high tide's current -
its pull dark molasses,
strong and magnetic, yet
it's not Eventide -
the moment,
one senses,
will arrive,
to confront,
to dive in deep,
to meet you
within the emeralds,
to stroke you,
stir the waters
for longer than
the trip,
oh the temptation,
the dissipation
of a dissolving halo,
to breathe life
back into
your beckoning lips
Candide Diderot. ‘24
"fast falls the eventide..."
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Candide Diderot
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