"You remind me of one of
Modigliani's women,"
he said.
I sat brooding in the corner.
Wearing a long pensive face.
Grey silk scarf about my neck.
I sometimes think this is how
the world views me.
Stoic with a storm brewing
under my dark blue eyes.
The silent face, a buttress.
Paint whatever portrait
you will.
Does the Artist ask
what his Model is thinking?
He paints away all her thoughts
with his brush strokes.
She becomes his vision.
Her thoughts only poking at the
surface.
Copyright May 17 2013 All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells /// Meloo from her Tilt-a-World
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK FOR THIS SITE BY THIS AUTHOR
