6 October 2012
A hundred guests Each draped in jewels and silk, Swirl around each other like smoky ink in water Filling the air with music and laughter. The chandeliers above Reflect the shades of gold and silver That fill the room with a honey-like satisfaction Almost dreamlike in all its luxury. An orchestra play, Swaying in time Like a single player in a hall of mirrors. Oh, how the women titter from behind fluttering fans As gentleman bow, gentle and strong as oaks And offer a gloved hand as a perch for these nervous sparrows
At the centre of this twilight gathering, A man sits alone at the table, and takes in the glittering society That swirls and dips around the room. All this time, he feels like a painting in a frame, A wallflower, coloured into the pastel wallpaper
A snowy hand reaches out in the distance Delicate, yet sure, And slips into the hand of a gentleman Where it rests like a dove
Graceful as a feather, drifting through the air, She floats down the staircase, Reflected in every surface An angel, her body glittering and Refracting light with her own presence
The whole room slows, Like they have all sunk into water, And now drift peacefully in the current Sofia ripples with each step
This liminal being, so pure yet so wise Now makes her way across the floor, Freezing people in her path Leaving them scared, yet fascinated, in awe... As if she is a bolt of lightning. But she does not notice, She brushes a strand of hair from her face, And turns her head to smile at the man As if she knows That she too, is a wallflower.
"Who's that?" Whispers the man. "That's Sofia"
Sofia Enters • Opuss № I