In the gallery's embrace, art unfolds,
Yet none as captivating, as my love beholds.
His silhouette, a canvas unbound,
Brushed by nature, in perfection found.
No marble statue, with cold veneer,
Matches the warmth when he draws near.
Colors of sunset, a palette divine,
In his eyes, a radiant shine.
Sculpted not by a chisel's might,
But by time's tender touch, each night.
The gallery pales, a fleeting gleam,
Beside the living masterpiece, my cherished dream..
For in every glance, a tale is spun,
A gallery of one, my only one
