The Monologue of a Muse (as she speaks to her Artist in Thought)

Paint me like one of your French girls.

Draw me in detail

With my black tears streaming down

And the melted lipstick on my nose.

Spare me the scarcity of covering

And draw what you wish to see.

Look in and depict

The coloring of my mouth

The shade of my blush

The rupture in my soul.

Notice how my arms are bent yet stay straight

Notice the white in between my shoulder blades and my chest.

Take your brush and mix the brightest shades with gloom

Feel my emotion as you paint.

A strand of hair is on my belly

Yet the shade does not match mine.

Take note of the blanket: it is white, not gray

And it covers the red you noticed

Before we began.

Find time to draw the ruffles on the cloth

And the things you don’t see fit to shade.


End with your name.


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