Your face has been a maze. Was the lie
a hidden devotion inside? A hidden sigh?
Were you smiling, back then? And, why?

Was the beauty of your days
found upon your singular face?
Was Leonardo charmed by your womanly ways?
Were you a captive to the dark side of him?
Was your smile just a secret
held in the heart of his whim?

Perhaps, your Mona Lisa grin
was nothing more than
the artist's portrait of only him.
Was that why you smiled within?
Could your face have been
the biographical face of his sin?

Your smile was somber; yet sweet.
Was it of a hidden need?
A hidden tease? Or, a hidden conceit?
Was it dangerous and scheming?
The mystery lies in the night
of Leonardo's own dark dreaming.

Your face was this mysterious thing
to be handed down through the ages,
to dangle on the broken wing
of some gallery's whimsy and guile.
Where we could all be drowned in,
held captive by, that Mona Lisa smile.