美しい5人の日本女性（パララックス）

Before the dawn breaks,
the city holds its breath.
An empty office street,
her secret stage alone.
No eyes are watching,
no whispers in the air.
Yet she moves with grace,
a silent song in steps.
Glass walls reflect her,
shadows dance beside.
No crowd to cheer now,
but truth in every move.
Concrete feels her fire,
calm as the morning wind.
Her light isn’t bright,
it’s the beat of her heart.
A nameless bloom grows,
in the city’s cold arms.
No fame, no applause,
just a reason to dance.

In the narrow tea room,
tension fills the still air.
A woman in her thirties,
holds the whisk with calm hands.
No smile graces her lips,
her eyes sharp, serious, cold.
Steam swirls softly there,
hiding hints of quiet fire.
Each motion precise, slow,
carrying a strange beauty.
Watching her stirs nerves,
a tension deep inside.
Time drips like silence,
marking moments with care.
A fragile calm surrounds,
painting shadows and light.

She slips through shadows,
leaving not a single trace.
A silent breath escapes,
her gaze cuts through the dark.
A curl of hidden smile—
did she win or mock?
No answers, just presence,
stillness sharper than steel.
Her body speaks of pain,
trained in silent resolve.
Born from deepest night,
she rejects the pull of light.
Never on the stage,
never in the stories told.
Yet in that fleeting beat,
she was real, she was there.
Then without a whisper,
she vanished into the dark.

A crimson ribbon
drifts gently in the breeze
Lace on her collar
catches morning light
Was it a smile,
or a trick of time?
We passed each other
for only a second
A graduation day?
Or simply her style?
Did she slip through
from another era?
I turned to look again—
but she was gone
Only the ticking clock
remained behind
For one brief moment,
time had come undone

She wore a samue, calm and light
A quiet strength in every line
Still young, but eyes had depth
As if shaped by steady time
She faced me with no mask
No tension, no pretend
Her answer came so gently:
“Sure, go ahead,” a friend
No pose, just standing still
Spine straight, gaze like wind
Something honest in her frame
That words could never pin
The shutter clicked once, soft
She let a small smile bloom
Like spring that hides in snow
A warmth that left no room
I thanked her as she bowed
Then turned, returned with grace
Back to the world she loves
Her craft, her chosen place