Three Venetian Masks Upon A Tableau Poem by Mihaela Pirjol

My pensive mind, and heavy eyes, I rest upon a tableau...
Whence three golden masks peculiarly emerge:
Some static antique fashion; each one with their age;
Seemingly, —a couple, embracing their little child,
Bound with batiks scarves around their heads:
Loosely folded orange-ochre, and kaki tapestry,
Asymmetric filigree, spiralling in liquid gold,
As if, their abstract bodies dissolved upon the black décor:
Intense, with sharp, shimmering crystal-drops
Surrounding their faces—sparking in obscurity:

Those hollow-black and lidless eyes of deep concave...
And the lamp-light beneath, diffuses an eerie mushroom
In beams of pastel-pink—illuming their faces more! —
And I, transfixed I sit, in the darkness of the room,
Feeling their presence in the night, above the light,
As if, in an hypnotic admiration, contemplation...
Fascinated by their magic, by their beauty: —
They are mysterious, lovely, but so lonely!
O so sad...for the crystal-drops upon their cheeks,
Resemble a falling stream of glassy tears.