by J. Andrew Reilly

Created on: January 21, 2010

"Her Alone"

She is an artist;

a maestro of consummate skill.

This portrait of me she has painted

with broad brush strokes

is deemed a masterpiece

by her alone.

Adept enough an artist,

her water colored caricature of me

failed to encapsulate on the surface

an essence beneath the canvas;

such as the soul who cries out

for her alone.

Enveloped by her canvas,

I am presented as I have been painted;

the contemptible beast.

But what of the regretful soul behind those cobalt eyes

gazing back from the frame;

at her alone.

I can see my woeful heart

is in no way part of her masterpiece.

Is it possible to get the artist to see

the portrait I paint myself to be?

The  remorseful man longing

for her alone.

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