Love In The Louvre Poem by Louise Tredoux

What would we be doing in France?
Rudi asked, Go to Paris, I replied -
Go see the Louvre? he asked -
That depends, I replied

On whether you can make arrangements
What kind? – To make love in the Louvre
WHAT? he asked bemused, choked in
his coffee - In front of everybody?

Are you turning into an exhibitionist? – No,
I just don’t want to stare at ancient art, I
want to create living new art, all private
and alone in that sacred place

You’ll have to make arrangements… In
front of the Mona Lisa? he wondered
aloud, a strange new light in his eyes…