[Ex Tempore XXI]
Beauty....
Beauty is a moment—
however fleeting or seemingly enduring—
in which you are thrust into an unknown,
an unknown with an instantly recognisable feel,
where you marvel and need and love.
My art will remain ever unfulfilled, and
your beauty will continue,
because every new moment with you is
a moment where I am stolen away to
a new reverie or idea:
Your eyes: the entire history of 24 years;
your smile: what becomes of moribund suns;
your movement: the infinite rhythms of nature;
you: indefiniteness.
M.M. — Iulius MMXII
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