Wednesday 21 May 2008

The Museum Girl

The hour grew late, and by the notes of a fantastic melody I strummed my steps up the marble staircase. I was behind her, I am always behind her. She made a subtle trail of coiled scent anywhere she went...it was so easy to follow, and a temptation to great to oppose. She cut the very fabric of air as she waltzed to and fro the great chamber, her steps too light and elastic to bother the floor, yet her shape was earthly enough to catch the light in such a way that it did justice to her fair, smooth skin. Her dress was in sympathy with her gentle body, tracing the shape as if it were aware of its beauty...From the slope of her neck, to the contour of her breasts, to the lines of her waist, it went in a melodious lay down her form, composing a veil sensitive to grace. No agency of time was empowered to set lines upon her brow, yet her eyes were of melancholic luster. Her voice was of some distant, sweet, reverberation as only found in deep woodland areas...near gentle streams. The gestures of her hands were intuned to some greater knowledge of form.

At the far side of the chamber was I, in quiet contemplation of the artwork that hung solemnly on the high walls. Great paintings of master craftsmen that survived ages, and yet no Renoir or Delacroix could catch my eye for more than a few waning moments. The tints on noble faces of time long passed were left livid in comparison to the verve of life that was issuing out from every rustle of a flowered dress that played this young things body. Even the flurry of colour of Signac could not overshadow the brilliancy of her hair or cheeks. No greater combination of chromatic thought had there ever been invented that matched the fine pigment of her skin, making ones mind race in all possible shades. I was bare before this display of subtle alliteration in spectral terms yet in living form. If only I had more than mere language to truly grasp the entire spectacle into one solid shape...no linguistic cage could ever set bars of letters round such grace.