considering art

An art gallery:
the sunset caressing the hills,
and flowing through a wall of mirrors
onto canvases almost
bleeding paint.

You, me.

And I know should care
about the art we're viewing,
analyze or contextualize
or deconstruct its
thematic structure.
Maybe theorize how the direction
of a stroke of a brush
belies whatever and
what have you.

But you look gorgeous
in your evening gown,
admid all these
mummified women
reeking of perfume and mold.

And the nape of your neck,
drawing devastating lines,
is calling me to a heaven
unknown by fleshless creatures.
And the curve of your calves
sneaking out
the hem of your skirt
is driving me to
half-rendered Shangri-Las
Such that art or metaphors
or silent brush strokes
gliding this way or that
are proven
completely insufficient.