You stare back at me
A long, hard look, unflinching
Your expression vacant, unchanging
Hollow-cheeked, dark-eyed, spare
Coloured, tinted, black and white
Toned image on hard shiny paper
Empty, two-dimensional being
Expensive rags adorn you, hang about your frame
Cool mags project your image
Independent, insouciant, insolent
Ideal and unattainable
Slender, bony clothes-horse
Sharp, angular cheekbones
Long legs akimbo, red lips slightly parted
Eyes inviting, saying have me if you want me
Yours for the taking
Rouged and ready-for-sex
Caped in haute couture attire
Draped, designer-dressed
Fine fashion figure with long, crisp lines
Sporting silk, wool, cotton, cashmere
The cut, the crease, the costume
Folds, buttons, pleats and zips
Placed to emphasise the fit
Stylised, so carefully-lit
Snapped, wrapped, shaped and taped
Edited, cropped, air-brushed to perfection
Does your real life have more substance?
Do you exist beyond the pics?
After the last shutter clicks
The camera-motor falls silent
Painful pose abandoned, make-up removed
And another shoot is over
What do you think about
And what do you feel
When you’re allowed to go home?
Finally sofa-settled
Feet up, jumper and jeans
Tea and toast, and a quiet cigarette?
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
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