He watches her, slowly undress
Dignified, creation of beauty
Lost in her soul
Interrupted by death
She watches him
Impassive
Every Night the same
Searching
He saw through the beauty
To the woman
Gentle like snow
Interrupted by death
Every night the same
Searching, for what
Lost in time
Naked
Touched by her radiance
Innocence, dance like
Love on clouds
Interrupted by death
She felt something
Strange
Trying to define
Yet dangerous
She could be her
For that second
Just a second
Interrupted by death
He was a drug now
She, the night dancer
Closer
Brought together
Passage of the woman
Running towards him
Warm
Interrupted by death
He could have her soul
Unveiled, for the final time
The night dancer
Bows out, beauty untouched
Interrupted by death
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 23rd, 2025 06:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
Haunting and eerie this poem speaks out of darkness unveiling as the dancer herself its message. Dark as death it carries with it a voyeuristic sense of satisfaction and the frustration of interruption. A wonderful write. Loved it
Into the darkness he went.
Paul, what a piece. The beauty, the longing, the repetition...all suspended under that constant shadow of death breaking in. It’s tender and tragic, radiant and ruined, a dance both intimate and impossible. Stunning work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks, Tristan, it was a bit dark.
Indeed. Loved it.
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