For The Woman In The Portrait

Did it hurt to crane your neck
for so long?
Did he stare into your eyes
Like I stared
Trying to divulge their meaning for his art?
His art
Did you let him use your face
Did you want to be framed in oils for centuries
Admired not for yourself
But for another man's talent?
A token of the way he could capture you?
Did he bottle you
Is this what you were like?
A flash of a profile is a shard we keep 
From your existence
It is all I now of you
And yet I think I can be more 
A friend
A sympathetic
I think I can do this
From staring into impressions of your dark eyes
Crafted by another man.