Sunday, November 20, 2022

unpainted still

she painted
portraits in oil
from photographs
she took,
painting
long hours into the night.
beyond
the light
of sun.
she couldn't sleep
in her high-rise
room,
the drapes pulled
wide
before the city.
her years were
measured
in canvas.
old lovers.
parents,
a bride and groom,
friends departed,
friends still here.
and yet, not a single
portrait of me.
unworthy
then,
and according to her
i always will be.

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