‘The Kiss’ by Gustave Klimt (1862 – 1918), born in Austria, Klimt was part of an era of radical social and cultural challenge, as an artist he was deeply influenced by Freud and became a symbolist painter, though far from subtle. His paintings are deeply erotic. He was a founder of the Vienna Secession movement which was ecclectice – it had no proclaimed style but rather welcomed all to coexist. He was considered ahead of his time.
So still, the noise has gone, replaced by the beating pulse in my temples. It’s so warm in here, I loosen my tie, anticipation, my breathing shallow. A smile creases my lips. Wow, that dress, a cliche no more. Black, which looks stunning against your pale , soft skin. That alluring dip draws my eyes to the equally glorious rise, how a necklace would grace that. A length to show off your legs … I take your hand, so cool compared to mine. Time is warped, everything a blur, the air is electric, but you say nothing. I’m shaking inside as I reach out and touch your dress, a subtle swish as I graze the fabric. My heart leaps, dizzying, a kiss, surely yes …
“Can I help you sir?” “Wha … What?” I stutter. Jolted, stung, it wasn’t you. Who? My hand leaves yours, a smear of sweat remains, so hot in here. “Can I help you sir?” I blankly stare. “Are you looking for a gift for someone, your wife perhaps?” Noise rushing in, lights, sounds, movement, confused I shake my head. My ardour dampened, I leave the dun, and muted mannequin and retreat, but oh my, that dress.