The painter | Poem
The painter
blindly in a portrait
to her perfection,
with such neutral features
in an exposed fresco
with magnificence to love
he has not knocked on my door.
the details to that canvas,
what is the magic in your brushes
you have or that reason to do
that beautiful work?
that it concerns her hair,
his eyes, his pupils
to luxury are embodied
without forgetting how beautiful
it would have been.
![image.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQme23ikMpC4Gnr2LTLp3FY1HosdJB3J9hd875WJM9e8eEz/image.png)
![](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmUTC1Uj9h4crUprZ9M4WRLhJqj4m3KfBtL8Zb5LKzaL75/image.png)
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