The Sin

The Sin

By: Lisa R.

Demure, controlled, serene, composed, perfectly at ease,

           Portrayed on canvas, all soft peachy glowing skin.

Flowing strands lifting and drifting upon a subtle imagined breeze,

           Broad strokes, coarse bristled sable captures sin,

Warm, sultry, chocolate cocoa, burnt about the edges, flecked...

           With gold, ensconcing perceptive pupils, onyx black,

Faintest hints, crinkles gathered, some long forgotten disrespect,

            Feathering, once fluttering lashes, in reveal swept back,

Satin smooth, high boned, youthful blush, elegance, refined,

           Canvas within a canvas, expressions contained, content,

Linear, centered, flared in impatience, regal, perfectly aligned,

           Capturing, imagined orchids, sweet gardenias, scent,

Curving smirk, plump lips, wordless smooth, soundless sigh,

           Slightly parted, glimpse of ivory white teeth,

A strong yet soft jutting, pride-exuding chin, set tilted high,

           Symbolic, silent judgment of the patron beneath,

"What of the sin?" you say, "Captured beauty this, no sin in sight"

           In whom does the sin reside?  You see not sin, in you,

In the hand that wield the sable brush, portraying her outer light,

           Layer upon layer of paint on canvas, only to eschew,

"Eschew what?" you ask, "Is this not the face he looked upon?"

           Ahhh, so you do comprehend!  You see the sin after all!

"Comprehend?  I see a most beautiful creature perched in a salon."

           You gaze upon a vision.  You gaze upon the subjects fall.

You hold equal share in the artist's sin!  You look upon her surface,

           You see her outer shell; you buy into the sad world's ideal,

Like most, you see only miniscule orts of her beauty, her grace,

           "This creature's beauty could not have eclipsed the artist's reveal!"

The sin, the sin, a bauble beneath glass, all gaze upon it, none touch,

           All breath-taking captivation, guarding the true treasure,

This ‘creature', as you say, pleasing vision, aesthetic, and the such,

           Was a vessel, a stronghold, fortress of unshared pleasure,

A soul, dear patron and artist alike!  A soul of immeasurable, rapt

           Depth, contemplations, unconditional love, respect, heart!

A mind, dear patron and artist alike!  A mind so sharp, yet trapped,

           Discounted, ignored, overshadowed, symbolized by this art.

The sin is yours, his, ours, theirs, the sin is complex yet painfully plain,

           The sin is in the painted hair, eyes, nose, chin, high cheekbone,

The sin is surface, radiated, superficial, contagious, perpetuated pain,

           The sin is simple, for you see, she sat and died...alone.