A Self Portrait

A Self Portrait

 

I am reaching

from scented candlelight,

into a space

just big enough

for my feet.

 

And I pick lilacs,

in dreams with

Edgar Allen Poe,

sprays of purple

and white,

holding them to his mouth,

never whispering a word.

 

And I am back again.

 

The shoes no longer fit.

 

Spitting brandy

on my favorite painting;

a self portrait

of someone else’s

me.

 

Understanding;

the colors that run together

have an easy flow,

even as they are washed away

by wine turpentine

in the dim light.

 

And I cant help but cry,

as I kiss canvass,

with the plum lips

I wear

every day.

Reviews

[TadKent]

This was... fantastic. SO many images here, mixed with so many different emotions. You seem extremely interesting if you don't mind me saying... :)