The sun pierced brilliantly upon the
fresco, though the hurtful illumination
served to ruin the genius of some
long forgotten virtuoso

Transparent beings drift, stir,
mingle within myriad colors that
trap them in a prison of inescapable

She cocked her head, listening to their
whispers, entranced by the operatic
gestures that filled their canvas;
their tiny world with life

The piazza below had been warm, but now
night had fallen, and a growing chill
filled the room, casting the painted
characters in a veil of silence

She draws closer, longs to hear them
again, presses the soft of her cheek
against the textured tarp that forever
denies her passage

Tears of frustration burn upon her
face, the taint of oil touches her lips
as she breathes hot upon the artist's

Tossing gently within the confines of
silken sheets, she opens cerulean eyes,
instantly aware of the disappointment
that floods her thoughts

Yet there was something different this
time; something unique about the journey
She touches her fingers to moistened
cheek and cast her gaze upon painted skin

by: GJ Benevides aka Highland

Copyright Midnight January 29, 2001 GJB
All Rights Reserved