paint me a picture, I think, of me, all dressed in purple purple like a queen’s velvet cloak, purple like wine and you, all dressed in black black like tar, steaming and bubbling black like death-metal-grease-paint the room has windows, floor to ceiling glass walls pressed against the sky the sky, purple like me, darker still O, celestial secret O, universal temperance O, now and now and forever more i’ll be your Venus goddess of love, goddess of Bananarama Venus like the razor impossibly close and kissing all your skin in a chrome plated shower I’ll make you work for it until your hatchet is dull the handle is brittle nothing left in you but brute force you will leave me tomorrow to work as a guard at the museum you will leave me purple, black, and blue i did not ask your name i didn’t care to. you’ll stand below a Matisse and I will sit with my floor to ceiling windows i will write poems for other girls. a new one for every girl I meet and the ones I already know you will turn the corner Of gallery “a” with someone else’s name tag fastened to your wrinkled shirt and tie smile at college girls in red rubber boots and secondhand jackets I will spend an hour perfecting a cup of French press coffee and watch the snow gather on the ledges of my high-rise building I’ll think of her or her, or her, or you or her, or her, or myself thank you for the good time don’t be late to work Will I see you around? most certainly.
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