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Untitled Canvas
<p>Eyes,</p><p>where truth learns</p><p>the luxury of disguise.</p><p><br/></p><p>A smile,</p><p>so quiet</p><p>it fractures every practiced lie.</p><p><br/></p><p>Words,</p><p>measured not by meaning,</p><p>but by the softness</p><p>of their echo.</p><p><br/></p><p>Calm,</p><p>not because the storm surrendered,</p><p>but because it found</p><p>a more elegant voice.</p><p><br/></p><p>Grace,</p><p>with fingertips</p><p>that persuade marble</p><p>to remember it was once alive.</p><p><br/></p><p>A masterpiece.</p><p>A canvas</p><p>history forgot to name,</p><p>leaving perfection</p><p>as its only pronunciation.</p><p>A body</p><p>that summons both hunter</p><p>and hunted.</p><p>Not through hunger,</p><p>but through gravity.</p><p>Something to be admired</p><p>the way one admires</p><p>the edge of a blade.</p><p>Never consumed.</p><p>Only savoured.</p><p>For beauty of this order</p><p>was never made</p><p>to belong to hands.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yet somehow,</p><p>it leaves with them.</p><p>It cannot be possessed.</p><p>It simply possesses</p><p>whatever dares</p><p>to witness it.</p>
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