On Le liseuse...

he looked at her...
her side profile
In yellow saffron
Back rested on a brownish cushion...
Hair tied up neat
In a bun...
Chin hanging down a bit
Eyes all on her hands
Held up to hold a book...
She was reading...
Reading she was...
Was she not?
the world of knowledge...
Moving slow towards wisdom...
Moving towards more of life
The Small and The Real Big...
She was reading...
Framed in eightyone by sixty four dimensions...
Outside it might have been
A rain rain filled scene...
Inside
It might be all Light...
Inside
It might be drizzling love slight...

She was reading...
Was she not?
Framed in eighty one
And sixty four centimetres...

And he just looked at her...
Being caught forever...
Ignited...
Calmed...
Lighted...
Loved...

[note: on Jean Honore Fragonard's work,an eighteenth century oil painting...]

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