Musée Des Beaux-Arts (Poem)

I came here...

To find you...

The art is forgotten,

As if worthless,

But I remember this place;

I remember you.

You, of fair skin,

Ocean eyes,

Golden, but sometimes disguised, hair;

You, of my heart.

It was a fool's errand

To ever look for you here.

I knew you were gone,

After all, it's been so long.

Art surrounded us,

But we found refuge,

In an illuminated hallway,

The passage from one to another.

It was our sanctuary

From the burden of culture.

There we spoke,

About what, I hardly care.

This was our nature:

Amongst the arts,

We found each other;

In them, we were bound.

All too much,

But not enough.

Could I paint your features

And see your heart?

Old friend,

And even older love,

Could we meet again,

Lost amongst the arts?

-Zero