Epilogue
Jolie Laide
There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own,
Immortalised in paint, painted over until,
A finished moment masks all that went before.
This Jolie Laide, new illusion of truth,
breaks the old mirror of imagined beauty and,
Up rise a confluence of feelings
As we stand before it.
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I poached this idea from somewhere and fell in love with it, so I made it mine own, if it's yours, I apologise, I'm not planning o...