The Real Thing

Or – An Valentine’s Day Afterthought

The title is everything. That holds true for Henry James short story as well as for this poem. Form and style are slaves to its message. Using internal rhymes and repetitive anaphora the stylistic devices try to convey the growing hunger a lion might feel, going after its prey.

The Poem is about love in a way. Or how you sometimes are unable to distinguish between love and lust. How do you know if it is the real thing?

Felix Fuchs/ The Eagle

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The Real Thing

Mesmerizing him by moving mildly,

Lashing dashing lashes lazily.

Smiling eyes, disturbingly clear,

Grey and white,

Like an ocean wave breaking

On a soft beach.

.

Moving her rosy lips,

On which a spotlight’s reflection

Dances,

Prances,

Melts.

.

Perfect and smooth,

Every subtle move,

Every movement of her hand,

Gently waving back a strain of hair…

Despair!

You can almost feel your own hand

Brushing through a field of golden wheat.

.

Perfect and smooth

Her snowy skin

Perfect and smooth

.

Suppressing the growing urge

To touch her

Kiss her

Feel her Soul

.

Her slim body,

Her delicate hands,

Her dark blue jeans,

Her boots…

.

All working in unison

As she turns away

For a heart wrenching moment.

Merely taking two steps

Towards a flower pot

Standing in the corner of his eye.

.

Touching the flower she

Turns, smiling at him:

“I just wanted to see, if it is real.”