What Mona Lisa Sees
What the Mona Lisa sees
The artist laid before her
His breath lingers in the air
Staring back and trying to pay honour to her beauty
Paint merges with turpintine to perfume the room
There in his eyes she see it the reflection
that started his fire
Where her perfect lines are mimicked but never are equalled
Then trapped within its confines
Watching art and artist die
Dust becomes her makeup
And tears become her praise
The enigmatic beauty with the enigmatic gaze
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