clavicle

I’ll be careful when
I touch what is fragile.
Follow your hair and trace
our fingers to the middle
Where your ravine of soft beige
hides where your heart stays.

I think I’ll hide here and
soothe with the tide of your breath
until you find me
and let me go.

~~~

Section of ‘Pregnant Girl’, Lucian Freud 1961

abstract self-portrait 1

A poem of free-associative self reflections. An attempt at fairly abstract but temporal written portraiture. I began writing this perhaps two months ago, and from that time until publishing it now, I struggled to convey as much in as little words as possible.

I was tempted at many points to make it bulkier for the sake of volume, however it served no real purpose other than to exercise writing, and that wasn’t my intention.

~~~

The curating comes before the examining
the Sartrean nausea.

Straight lines are suspicious and unimaginative,
always encircling to bookend the figments.

I am in dialogue with a disappearing self
by way of seance and sigils.

~~~

‘Male Lower Torso‘, Egon Schiele 1910