The Woman in the frame
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Each day people passed. Each one with different eyes, each one with different smiles.
People passed and looked. They searched for a meaning in the painting that would perhaps help their own story.
People searched and appreciated the beauty in her. But they never found it.
In the most beautiful part of a museum, she resided. With her golden silk, and naked body she danced an infinit melody. Must could say that she was as free as the wind that blew her golden hair. Must would say that she was the representation of beauty itself on a frame. But they never truly saw the depth of her own eyes, smile or story.
Each day people would pass but never truly see.
Until her.
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