What have you hidden?
What did you expect me to ask you?
What part of your art would you like to press into my brain, like a seal into wax?
Have you made a monument more lasting than bronze, or just a cake?
If I could eat it, what would it taste like?
Did the past speak in you, as you made this? Were your hands your own?
To what king, what leader, what politician would you present this art and would it honour or scorn them?
If similar societies produce similar art, what revolution would help you reach what you were straining for?
When you were frustrated, making this, labouring over details you eventually erased, did you think of me in the future, loving your work and misinterpreting it?
Are you sad that I am your audience, since you did not make this for me?