Getting ready, I see you painted in a dozen hues. Going from tired to golden. echoing so many modern masters a billion armed empire applying color, youth, and powder.
If I hired Picasso, to paint you aknew, would you be abstractly perfectly you? Would the chauvinist master at his craft hide the beauty of your femininity beneath his cubist vanity?
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Revisions of Me
PoetryThis is a collection of poems from shortly before Covid, all during it, after my long term relationship dissolved mutually, and beginning my trials and tribulations of dating and specifically online dating, aka Hell. I tried not to tamper with the v...
