Painting Me

I am the naked lass
Framed in a painting of midnight blue
Adorned with nothing but a half smile
And the glow of the pale moonlight

Abed my hair long glorious
I watch its wicked edges stream to the gushing brook
My bare foot glides and plucks a yellow rose
And considers the forgotten red stilettos

I dance with the stars in the night
To a song no one else hears
My sweet laughter fills the earth
My eyes half-closed yet alive

I see your hand gingerly raise
Trembling, the paint you caress
Like a whisper from the wind, I hear you ask:
Is she angel, witch, or enchantress?

Come, take my hand
To you, I bring a midnight boon
Take me out of the picture
And make me real.