The Louvre

A pyramid made of glass
reflects the sun, no graves
a pyramid of inverted glass reflects the rain
heat that emanates indoors

in the corridors, statues,
of grandness speak and of God
of gods enshrined into other beings
by the beat of a wing, a floating fly

Psyche was kissed here
I wasn't, I stood and watched
the turning of centuries
on the face of a statue

she shows her bosom,
her sister pinches in discovery other people's body parts
while another woman laughs
with her eyes watching the passerby

in a flash you will see it
in another you won't
that fine line between what man made
then what became art, solid

the gardens will promise of something else
order above all
beauty, nothing too abstract
yet a space full of life and the past