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