You are still my Mona Lisa. You are incomparable, slightly out of reach, and eternally beautiful in the way you broke my heart. I’m learning to be okay with just being a visitor in the museum of what we used to be. To make this even more personal for you:
I used to call you my Mona Lisa. Not because of the fame, but because of the mystery behind your eyes. Every time I looked at you, I found a new detail, a soft brushstroke of kindness, or a hidden shadow of a secret I was dying to learn. You were the only art I ever cared to study. Ex Problem - Moja Mona Lisa рџ’–
The Louvre is silent at night, but my mind is loud with the gallery of us. You are still my Mona Lisa
(a shared song, a first date, a specific city). To make this even more personal for you: