Lights suspended from the ceiling come to life
and drape the creaking wooden floor
in a dull approximation of daylight.
The footsteps of tourists and
the ruffling of their brochures
do not quite drown out the
emphatic and fallacious
"ahhs" and "hmms",
as they pass painting and sculpture
with equal disinterest.
Some way down the line
a small congregation forms
that is silenced by adoration.
A golden, twirling frame keeps captive
the most gorgeous of women
upon the most fantastic landscape...
though she will never see such beauty.
Her eyes are painted in place upon the page,
to forever gaze beyond the frame.
