Her smile in these photos entice me to look deeper and beyond my interpretation.

Her eyes staring into my soul, telling me my quest for answers will bring me a long journey.

But this is a risk I am willing to take.

 

Allow me to rephrase that...

 

This is an adventure I am willing to march off into and explore.

To investigate the brushes and the paint used to create that smile.

Because for every day that smile is missing, I will be her Leonardo Da Vinci and paint it back on for her.

I will be her Van Gogh and paint her a beautiful starry night.

Each star in the sky burns with the secrets, thoughts, memories, and never ending truths she has within her.

 

I could be these painters and try to recreate the beauty I see.

But nothing will ever be enough to recreate this masterpiece.

Your curves, lines, and stroke patterns all bring forth a humanly perfect work of art.

One nobody will ever fully understand what I see in this painting, sculpture, poem, and song.

Your smudges, faded colors, cracks, chips, and dents all are great indicators of those who do not understand.

 

But I will have you know, I am a master art thief.

One whose lies and alibi are so intricate and well crafted.

Many say such beauty should be displayed proudly.

I must confess, I am a jealous artist and a selfish thief.

One whose selfishness and will shall ultimately lead to the disappearance of one of the world's true wonders.

 

I will be that investigator whose eye is sharp on detail when examining this painting up close, on the days you forge that smile on your face.

The forged painting indeed has beauty but can never compare to the original.

The original, being the exact copy I intend on keeping to myself.

 

I refuse to let this Mona Lisa out of my sight.

Away from my caring hands and into that display case for all to see.

This one is my exhibit to guard, protect, and admire.

There will be many who will try to destroy my masterpiece.

 

 

Some may say they agree on my selfishness.

None will see the extent of my unnerving envy.

The jealousy I feel when tainted eyes and hands rest on this sculpture.

Because I want it all.

I will steal it all away.

You have given me a piece when my selfishness demands me to take the whole.

 

 

I can compose music inspired by you.

But the song will never end. The chords, notes, altos, and falsettos will stretch on forever.

Like that envious artist and that greedy thief,

I want it all to myself.

 

I will be the undiscovered composer whose songs will never reach the ears of these mannequins set to destroy my art.

I will be the voice inside the director, begging to prevent such tragedy.

With no consideration to the audience, I will end their show.

I want the drama, the comedy, and the suspense to roar to life behind these curtains.

I want all of the inhuman tragedy in this production and the moments worthy of a standing ovation.

I want this production all to myself for my heart and selfish reasons.

Do not panic when I smile and shout an encore for so many times.

 

 

The people will never understand, appreciate, and differentiate this masterpiece.

They can keep their self-portraits, human depictions of divinity, and primitive drawings revolving around the ideas of philosophies.

I have my Mona Lisa, which I plan to spend years on end trying to interpret and discover that reason for her smile.

Which is my, and mine alone, of a mystery to solve.

In hopes one day, I will know why my Mona Lisa smiles.

 

Or perhaps, be the reason she smiles.