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.

At Home

  Ohhh, you haven't touched your Video or the cassette mama ! the visitor kneels beside the elderly lady. She's looking at the trees...