Her
paintings come to life and I am right there with her family
Catching
the sunlight off the white cliffs of Dover
We
wanted to be passive, but it didn’t fit our resourceful resumes
We
wished for domestication before it was in fashion
The
dog collar doesn’t fit around my neck because I’m not a dog
She
paints and I become her student because she’s every musical festival rolled
into one except for Altamont where the blood flowed like carmine red
There’s
no excuse for all this infighting except that man was created for war and
continues to be bred for violence and victimhood
All
the tolerance and patience in this world ain’t gonna teach us a single,
solitary thing when we listen only to our oversized phones and refuse to see
through anything, but rose tinted shot glasses
Haw
rips off the Band-Aid with her feral brushstrokes of soft terror and real love
Her
spirit animal is a honey badger because she takes shit from no one
Let’s
lose ourselves in exhibitions gone awry as we have breakfast in bed and choke
on another origami swan of desolation and penniless regret
Her
paintings breathe new life into my old, underdeveloped bones
No
amount of calcium is going to help me walk erect
When
Julia opens her eyes, moonlight pours into my soul like I am another infant in
desperate need of Vitamin D milk and a fearless new direction
Charles Cicirella
1/21/19
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