SLEEPING BEAUTY.

A MAN ON A TRAIN IN LONDON AND THE SLEEPING WOMAN.

I sat opposite her
on the train
the carriage rocking
side to side
as trains do

the art gallery visit
still in mind
Matisse Cut-Outs
and else beside
to please the eye

I gazed at her slouched there
against the carriage side
sleeping
mouth open
fish out of water mode
clutching her pink handbag
a necklace of sorts
about her neck

her short shirt
raised up her thighs
her legs askew

Asian I thought
black hair straight
cheek level

the guy beside her
unconcerned
looked away

wonder what she's dreaming of
if she dreams at all?
I thought
whom she loved
and if she did
and where she lived
and where she came
from and when
and did she prefer
girls or men?

I drank her in
each aspect
of her being
from black haired top
to slip on shoes
and all between
that could be seen  

the carriage rocked
it's gentle rock
her head moved
in a no not now fashion
her mouth still open
taking in air
of crowded space
that snub nose
upon her face

the guy beside her
glanced at her
and gazed at me
then out the window
went his gaze

I wondered whom
she held in dreams
or waking life
was she some one's lover
some guy's wife?

not at all romantic
in that pose
child-like in innocence
a sleeping babe I suppose
I mused

I studied how her legs
slow swayed
to the train's motion
such stocky thighs
not fat or flabby
but kind of welcoming
to the eye

still she slept
mouth closing briefly
then open again
to capture air

some dream taking place
behind the eyes
and in her mind

I sat opposite her
on the train
the art gallery visit
some distant place
this was my new art
this dame's vacant
sleeping face.