Looking, Knowing

Cindy Sherman by Robert Mapplethorpe, 1983.

National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution 

20 Minute Free-Write, Strike a Prose
June 7, 2022


I see you- watching you from behind as you approach the photo. 
You're looking at me, noticing me-
the color of my hair,
the cut of my suit,
the curve of my breast,
waist.

Is that a sparkle in my eye? 
Or is it a sigh?

A coy glance? No.

What is the look saying? 
You desire to know
if it is for you.

You're wondering if I am inviting you in? 
Drawing you near, as though a potential lover across a dim bar? 
Reading you as though you are a precious, beloved book? 
Or is it a look of judgement?  

You're looking at me- in a place, at a time- 
but you don't see the depths

hidden in the caverns

of my existence,

the inner workings that are a mystery, 

even to me. 

Everything I am- you see.

You know.

After just a few blinks- maybe a breath.

Taking just a sip, drinking me in, without a taste.

You turn and walk away, 

with some revelation, some feeling,

and if we're both so lucky- a connection,

however fleeting. 

From that glance. 

Art!
It made you feel

something

maybe. 

For a second.

Maybe.

Even if it's 
"well, I could've done that too," or
"I've seen prettier."

A whisper of a life
you might've lived. 

I see you, 

seeing me.

For the first time.

Assuming. 
Intimate.

Based on a glance, 

and the reading of a six-inch placard. 

"Art and artist.
Posed and poser.

The subject and the object." 
Under this, a flick of a second of my life. 

And you leave thinking- 

yes, I see it on your face- 

you leave with the knowledge

of all there is to know about me

and my essence,

better than I know myself. 

Based on that single image.
One tenth of one second,
of the millions that will make up my life.

When I have spent every single moment

in this cavern, 

this body, 

these curves,

these eyes,

always discovering something new.

And you think you've conquered- seen all of me- in a glance.

Checked it off your "must-see museum highlights!" map,

that you shoved in your pocket, 

that you'll toss aside eventually,

and never think of again.