MUSEUM

He doesn’t love her, still
she makes it up
imagining dark locks, his kiss
like an authentic Vermeer
or a Georgia O Keefe flower opening
with his mouth wet on hers
and she has no confessional
but knows it’s not okay to love a friend
not that one
or he will never come to her again
but neither can she have pictureless walls
so she hangs
impure selections reflecting light
fiery colors, fugitive eyes
both terribly deep and wide
within the muted watercolors of ordinariness
a few delicious impressions in ivory halls
where she is growing old.


About Christine Tsen:
Christine Tsen is a musician who has found great joy in writing poetry. She attended Eastman School and the New England Conservatory of Music. A published cellist and poet, her poems can be found in THRUSH Poetry Journal, Requiem, The Legendary, and Cyclamens and Swords. In her experience so much of poetry feels like music, and music like poetry ~ and to her one lights up the other! More: www.ChristineThomasTsen.com.