Her hair shines radiantly in the morning light as it cascades down her face like a waterfall, gently, majestically, infinitely. Her delicate and lustrous skin has the tender and soft texture that of silk, pure and untouched. Her musical voice, tranquil, yet poetic, engulfs both ears with aural euphoria. Her firm nipples, exposed to the harsh realities of nature, have blinded countless men from a secret that only her dark and illustrious eyes can reveal. Just as a rain cloud blocks the sun’s jovial rays, her vision is blocked by her past and her present.

As he painted her with a thick and unjust brush in broad strokes and different shades of black, he smiled, as did she. She had no choice then and has no choice now, but to stare lifelessly into the eyes of tourists, spectators, and painters, with her deceiving smile.