Dead pictures are all I see
Oils on canvas
Lifeless yellow petals
Stuck in a morose jar
Placed on a frowning piece of red velvet
And stuffed into a wooden frame
Reeking of turpentine
Too new for a painting
That’s too cold for my heart
A reflection of your soul
Like a galaxy I once glimpsed
And joyously made my own
But soon lost sight of
In the infinity of space.

In the thrill of discovery
I overlooked
The lack of emotion
In your eyes
My happiness always shut out
The things I did not wish to see
Cold hands and cold kisses
Like the cold heart
I tried my best to melt
But remained unthawed
And always will
For eternity

I stop because I fear
That icy fingers clutch
At my once warm heart
Now devoid of feeling
That cannot be.