He's wrinkled,
carved, like a Greek statue with all of its divets and muscles.
I see where they got their inspiration from,
from the world of flesh and blood.
He moves so painfully slowly,
his feet drag in the dust.
He might really be a statue,
naked as he is,
moving like stone just brought to life.
He dances.
Say something!
I tell him,
but he has no patience for me
or my requests.
He’s sternly cut rock but he looks
like he could cry.
About the Creator
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