The Day I Focused On The Photos Of Antoine Verglas
He captured my image
My Dutch friend Burnie & I were enjoying a hot day of ranching around & rolled the sleeves of soft flannel to wrangle a hard work appeal.
“Excuse me, miss, is this your cowgirl hat?”
The’lost & found’ pick up line rarely registers a second glance from me, but the sound of the voice, silk through dusty air, slid into my viscera.
This man’s phrasing, French, exquisite, roped me in: ”Excuse me, miss, is this your cowgirl hat?”
He was beside me, among the sharp succulents, holding out my hat.
The warm air I breathed in was a sun soaked rattlesnake that went straight through my heart, into my stomach & down my legs, into my boots, shaking.
My clothes, though cottony breathable, were too heavy in his gaze. I did not need to cover myself in front of him because he could see through them & into me anyway.
The snaps of my shirt popped open & my denim fell away.
“It is,” I responded & reached for it.
“You might want to hold onto your hat,” he said with a smile. ”I am the type of man who can’t help but make a woman feel sexy.”
Burnie, who was also compelled to become visual cumulation the desire this man inspired, had also shed the cold covering of her clothes.
The sun lit us from inside, his eyes the moon, radiating our womanhood’s beautiful tendencies.
I took the hat & in a daze walked away. I glanced back to have one more look at Antoine Verglas, the captor of my image.
Photos courtesy of http://antoineverglas.tumblr.com