A faux shower of water droplets
perfectly clear, perfectly formed
adorns rather than veils the face
and shoulders of the model, his
glassy black hair barely dampened,
smooth bronze skin glowing with
uplights from an inevident source,
his brown eyes gazing vacantly
downward as if lost in thought.
But where wander his thoughts?
An interview or audition perhaps,
or his family far away, or the boy
he met last night who seemed
indifferent. His beauty his strength,
his loneliness his vulnerable point.
T. Allen Culpepper