0
0
Look upon the mighty halls,
Filled with canvases and likenesses
Perhaps you may happen upon a plaque
A great artist was inspired by his beautiful wife
Or fiancé
Or daughter
Never her on her own
Her as adjacent to him
He’ll immortalise her likeness to the canvas or marble
Proclaiming her as his muse
For our viewing pleasure
He muses over her features
Which ones shall be immortalised
And which ones forgotten?
Of course, we must know of her curves
But no, not those unsightly marks
How shall she be portrayed?
Cloaked in white and gold so we know how pure she is
Pure as all women should be
How shall the lips be painted?
Rosy, of course
Pursed closed,
For we may never know their musings
Twelve years, did Leonardo da Vinci spend
Picking the Mona Lisa’s mouth
How cruel is it that we may never know what musings came out of her mouth
Unequal, was the marriage
The young bride’s face illuminated with light and innocence
Lips rosy and pursed
How cruel, that we may never know her musings
She descends upon him
His guidance, his saviour
Lady philosophy,
Leaving him in her dust,
He too, left his mark
In his wake, all of his writings
Filtering her words
How cruel, it is, that we may never know her true musings
Look around you, my dear
See now
Why their gazes beg of you to speak your musings
Do not let your lips turn into marble
Do not let them dry with misuse
Like the oil paint on the canvas
Written by Emilia Yasmine
Author
Views: 0