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Board Administrator Username: mjm
Post Number: 4512 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Friday, July 22, 2005 - 4:06 pm: |
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Honorable Mention Portrait of a Woman Treezaa (T. E. Ballard) Skin the color of light as it falls through a hand. She is there and then she is not. Brush strokes of yellow, white, the blue of an eye. Masters will tell you how this is done, angle to hold a brush, pigments of oil. Students will write papers on raised brow, tilted chin. I’ll listen to theory, educated guess wait till people forget their pens. Rip through a canvas with my teeth, unbutton a dress, slip off skin-- This is a woman, her color is red. blood is set by the touch of warmth when washing under-garments wait till all is clear, use cold instead The first time he entered, came inside my body, though I remembered it was what I wanted, what I begged for. How I enjoyed the touch of his hand. Still, I could not stop myself from thinking, a piece of me, no matter how small was gone and she’ d never return.
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