Epilogue



Jolie Laide

There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own,

Immortalised in paint, painted over until,

A finished moment masks all that went before.


This Jolie Laide, new illusion of truth,

breaks the old mirror of imagined beauty and,

Up rise a confluence of feelings


As we stand before it.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

The Incidence

  of war yesterday we went to war to rid the world of want filling coffers with oil  vast vats with grains dark powders spice life water and...

  • What she had become - a beginning
      Her beating heart, so tired now, nerves worn thin with worrying, Her legs, led her, running on empty, to the place where she could rest ; ...
  • (no title)
      We learn to point it's strange Baby thinks the toy is gone But it's just behind a book, Take the other from under your hat See the...