the man squinted close, face so near the painting that his breath warmed its textured flesh
dare he touch the surface and know its colors as warmth on the tips of fingers?
know the shadows, ye man, and how they veil each color
know too the ridges that catch a glare of light to set colors into gilded folds
each gaze steals a stroke for yourself on retina and holds it in close
he turns his head
a moment too long
the man tilts his head
his eyes, unmoving take in the whole of an image out of his reach
you may not know, ye man
but watch how each color fills its role
with details that melt and shout together across a space of floor
and i will be
as i am
even as you leave the room with the imprint of my form submerged in the eyes that sleep open
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