he painted the way he saw things
and he saw her lips;
deep red rubies.
he feathered the paint on his brush lightly
so as to capture the gentleness
of her clairvoyant voice
that snakes out from between those ruby lips
parted in pleasure-
pleasure from the twinkling stars
and the distorted reality
she's encased herself in;
never to understand why he
depicts her portrait
in a style
so abstract.