So this morning
(Oh, the evil "So"!)
I placed all my model photos
into a skinny pink album dotted
with blue unicorns
that I bought off a boy on the street
for $1.25 and a Snickers bar.
And I found myself thankful
(of all of you, always...
...but of *you,* this time)
that you cared enough about me
and my art and my general sanity
to pose nude, reclined, standing, sitting
smiling, sighing, eyes closed...
and open, all per my request.
I stop and go back to my notes
holding one glossy snap in my hand
not remembering asking for a shot
of you looking directly at me
just your face, auburn mass of hair
blue eyes unnerving, wise, quiet
sad, angry, my Terrapyre friend.
Is that... a smirk?
I should never have sent you
that darn remote timer ;)
But that's what I get, I guess,
for asking for a favor
from a woman who knows a friend
from a client, an hourly rate
from a freebie.
I should have known better.
Next time, I'll beg that
Catholic grrl I know... you know:
the one I painted with henna tats
(after the fact, on canvas)
fifty tiny flowers down her thigh
while she talked with me about
the politics of power and desire
in the Vatican.
Geez...
the mothers in my life
are just so...
*so.*
EJ
