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Apr 27, 2007


He painted her
so many times,
replaced her harrowed face
with dabs of color over
blank canvas-cheeks.

A few quick strokes
carved her mouth upward
toward washed out eyes,
makeshift easels for brushes
to blend in the sun's warmth.

But he was always
too lazy to finish her,
so he stored her in
damp basements with
pipes that leaked

blood-rust onto her head,
dripping downward
to split an eyebrow
continuing down
to streak from eyes,

smearing her face
with shadows on her
bottom lip--
broken lines
which were once

her mouth,
making her
a little too
for his taste.

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posted by Rax @ 12:40 AM