She held my hand as we climbed br br The magnificent staircase of the art museum, br br it was a summer holiday and we were slightly tipsy br br From afternoon wine in the flower garden. br br br br She touched my lips and spoke, br br 'Nothing more for you to drink, br br I don't want the curator to dismiss you as a drunk br br Who would fail to appreciate this sacred place br br With landscapes of Delacroix and Renoir' br br br br I was only inebriated enough to be happy in the moment br br Of our footsteps intimately keeping pace with each other; br br I felt indebted to the Greek gods Dionysus and Pan br br That I was alive and wrapped in her perfume. br br br br She would point to paintings or ancient pots br br But I would smile and say, 'I only want to gaze br br Quietly into the mystery of your eyes.' br br But I could tell she was becoming irritated br br that I wasn't taking in the scenery of my surroundings br br More completely, so I became more submissive br br and less outwardly in love.