The Artist's Waltz

She sketched.
Her pencil dancing
an intricate waltz
across the page.

She was lost to the world,
to bill payments, to dishes,
to the music wailing away
next door.

There was nothing but this moment,
this dance, this leap of faith.

Beneath her hand, a door opened
spilling out her conscious and unconscious thoughts
on the subject at hand.

The dress flowed around the sketched girl,
thin strapped, V-lined, cinched in all the right places
it captured her, held her, a beautiful prisoner.

She took further shape
as the minutes ticked by.
Details appeared - made by only the faintest of strokes,
the faintest of lines.

Stepping back, coming up for air,
the sketch was complete.
A dress that bedazzled took centre stage
so beautiful, so detailed.
It was impossible not to touch, and feel the fabric
running through your fingers.

Life like, gorgeous,
she turned the page,
taking up her pencil
once again.