Mona, by Taylor Franson Thiel

Mona Lisa, by Leonardo Da Vinci (Italy) 1503

​Mona
 
She was told to smile
by the man who painted her.
They called him, genius
now, she sits like a rock abandoned in the surf.
The dark of the night surrounds her.
He stroked the canvas
any way he wanted.
 
This is not a metaphor. 
 
Imagine what she’d tell us
if she could speak.
To young girls trying to learn from a master
by sketching her into their own books.
She says
Paint your own body,
paint it the way you want it to be seen. 
 
While she remains fixed
in that tiny frame. 
People come, flash photos to
remember her by
then leave, like the artist 
when the canvas aged.
 
Stare at the smile,
that curved stroke he forced upon her.
Is she tired of smiling yet?
The eyes follow you,
what are they seeking? 
Siren, when the paint melts,
will we hear your howl?

This is not a metaphor. 
 
Taylor Franson Thiel

Taylor Franson Thiel is a graduate student at Utah State University pursuing her Master’s in Creative Writing. Her writing frequently centers on her experience as a Division One basketball player, her family, the female body, abusive relationships and mental health. You can find her on twitter @TaylorFranson