Many of Matisses models,
Dont gaze into the mirror,
Whether if theyre standing,
Or sitting beside one,
They are chill and detached,
from the reflection,
Of their own beauty,
While the maestros gaze,
Is like the mirror,
Of their starry,
chic,
and flower kissed daze,
A Nice lake,
Caressing moons,
breasts, and stars,
And in a deep serenity,
Paints, undresses,
And dresses them,
In a vibrancy,
of loving hues,
Even if they happen to feel blue,
The maestro,
can beautify and brighten,
Their gaze,
Like evening and midnight stars,
Kissing,
Sweet flowers
Reynaldo Casison