Hooded in somber detachment
He purses his lips
Closes his senses.
Little flecks of color
Tiny drips of glitter
Stick to his skin
cling to his sense.
Silence his defense
Reflection his armor
The stunningly stunned
The endearingly spun
Carrying those splashes
Of gashes
With stoic grounding.
These are what meets the eye
What lies inside, unseen
Are may be
Those unfathomable depths
That play peek a boo
Showing only what can be seen
Urging me to feel the in-between.
I hope not
That my insight fails me
Lost in the mesmerizing Glimpse.
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