Monosyllabi
We talk about our work, the mundane occurrences of the day, And before long we get silent, running out of things to say, You have your share of problems, and I have my share, Exhausted, we just give each other
Pygmalion
I look for things more often, when they are ones I cannot see, I know they were, because they are so clear in my mind, And once visible, my mind refuses to merely let them be, It pushes me to
Perfection
Around the edges, the eyebrows taper a little too sharp, And the face is imbalanced, neither round nor oval, they harp, Perhaps just a little more effort, could have salvaged Mona Lisa’s fate, It could have been a lot better,