His eyes glazed over
          her art
      and missed the nuances
          small sounds
          measured movements
     Never saw it coming


Her eyes were blue
        and black
    defending him
          against her better judgment
     her face brushed
          in natural blushes
          and smokey greys
     that made me yell FIRE


They were a pristine model,
     he, a snapshot of time
     she, the painted portrait
               Je t'embrasse,
                        Marie A.


She was beautiful, and
he was happy
     to leave her hanging
     on a wall