My inamorata, sitting propped upright on a pedestal
Can by definition do me no wrong
And yet I sit admiring her beauty
Slighted and betrayed by her other formable lovers
Appreciators of the arts, connoisseur of her fine curves
Her brilliant colors, her rich and lavish history
And I sit and admire,  a bodacious figure
A finely chiseled model that I will never obtain