the girl at nautilus teachings

She is the color
in the room.
she may be
sitting alone
but the sunshine
reflects off her
long golden locks
shimmering
each time
she tosses her head
back while
thinking glorious
silly thoughts
no one can hear…
just watch her sip
her glass of wine
you can almost feel
the silky slide of it
down your own throat
leaving you
speechless…
you notice the
dangling white heart
handing from her neck
and wonder
does she feel the weight of it
or is it light as a feather?
you yearn to crawl
inside her pocket
invisibly
soaking up
her magic…
you want to know
how
does
she
do
it…
she stands
exits
and when
she returns
she is all awash
in gray tones
a monochromatic
walking
sad mess…
her mascara
is smudged
her eyes downcast
lips a blue reflection
of the grief
simmering
below the surface
of the clouded
encompassing
flashbacks
of her hidden life
the one
bound with black edges
droplets of yellow air
cleansing blue waters
and the secrets
locked within
her rapidly
beating heart…


you gaze around
wondering
what blew out
her inner light
when you notice
a glowing trail
flickering
behind
her wet footsteps…
you quietly follow
her telling stream
of truth
wanting desperately
to crouch down
dip your finger in her
cool liquid beauty
yet the soft turquoise tide
has turned
death black
thickened
and now
lazily
drip drip drips
into the pool
turning the water
scarlet red
as it curdles
into the
rounded corners
of honesty…
you’ve heard
some of her stories
of the life
she lived
and left behind
yet until this moment
you did not know
that laying amongst
her poetry
are splintered pieces
of her still beating heart…
you walk back inside
and she is once more
filling the tiny space
with a multitude of
brilliant hues.
her smile has returned,
her gaze is fixed
looking out
toward
tiny lizards
playing on the front porch
and a russet squirrel
munching on
red nuts
fallen from her christmas palm…


you join the rest of the group
who are munching,
sipping, mingling,
chatting and laughing
noticing
the sound level has risen
as the girl
who is afraid
to be her true self
folds her long body
into a corner
as a apple green vine
with luscious purple grapes
begins to wrap around
her from toe to head
soon all you see is
her huge brown eyes,
small lips
and long fingers
still holding her
half filled wine glass…
you blink
refocus
and realize
she is just standing
next to the tall
leafy plants
gazing at a painting on the wall
and the vision you saw
was an illusion
she cast upon you
in hopes
you would walk over
sit with her
and truly listen
to her broken heart
honest words
and at least pretend to care…
she was the color
in any room
always sparkling
creating smiles
upon the lips
of those who
noticed…
yet most days
people saw her
as a watercolor
barely visible
to the human eye
so they ignored her.
no one stopped
to ask how she was
what she was up to
or even what she was thinking
they just zoomed by her
as if she was a discarded
piece of paper
being tossed by the wind…
time flew by
life took over
you were flooded
with family and work
responsibilities
sitting at a stop light
your mind racing
1,000 miles a minute
when you see her
sitting in the car next to you
you want to wave
but her eyes
are focused
forward
her lips
barely moving,
to a phone conversation?
song?
in prayer?
you smile
and think
the next time i see her
i am going to
approach her
and get to know this
odd
colorful
beauty…
the light
turns green
you both take a left
and as you do
a truck refusing to yield
smashes in to the girls car
as your head spins
back in horror
you drive off
so you are not late
instead of pulling over
turning around
and letting her know
she has a friend
who cares
who is there for her
who understands
her pain…
she is the color
in the room
when you see her,
if you see her,
take the time
to have a conversation
and let her know
she
is
not
alone…