literature

perfect picture

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ClamShellHeart's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

I took your fingers between mine like
a paint brush. Beneath the stroked skin I wove
your veins into lace.

And in your shoulders a wire coat hanger
with white masking tape so I could write my name
and hang it in the clothes-wrack art gallery
where I'll be able to find you again.

In a gunmetal sort of way
I dressed you up
and we drank together in the breaking Mosses downtown.

I tagged your bare chest and we
fell over the slippery rocks by the river and
floated, breathing in the brownish foam.

It's a photograph presented to
the north-side jury, smug and staring down pointed beaks.
"That one obviously fell a bit too far."

And they go home to pristine art on their walls
while the artist lives on the street.
:iconlive-write-now:
prompt: painting the perfect picture

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Comments21
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PrettyThings9's avatar
what a perfect final stanza! i love the sarcasm loaded 'perfect picture' of both the composition and society in general where this happens. brilliant :D