In the Window

Your allure and refinement is on display
in every way,
for all to see and savor.

Still they walk past.

Rigid, elegant lines sweep out around you,
fashion clings to you like suitors on Helen.
Your beauty is unreal
in a world where mere flesh fails.

No man kisses your cold lips,
for your stare comes back in return.
Within you is all you will ever be,
nothing can be added.

You stand in exquisite posture,
your form hand shaped,
for all to glance,
take a chance,
draw their gaze.

Still they walk past.

Stoic beauty,
has life left your eyes?
Have you grown cold
to the indifference
shown you in the hours?

Would they stop
if they knew -

if mannequins
had feelings, too?



©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for OpenLinkNight at dVerse~Poets Pub

photo credit: photopin.com