MY GALATEA

My Galatea, you're not real. You're not flesh and you can't feel. Painted you with my own hand, So you can never understand. I'm in love with my creation, A figment of my imagination. Though you lack life's sweet sensation, Your beauty's my fascination. Every brushstroke brought you close, You're the muse I treasure most. In your eyes, a lifeless stare, Yet, my heart, it lingers there. Can a canvas come to life, Can my dream become my wife? In my thoughts, you dance and play, Yet you can't hear a word I say. Silent prayers to the night, Wishing you could hold me tight.