blue abstract

 
her heart was a raw canvas, & the squadron of her lovers
painted their own furious shades of blue.
it was adorned with the color of hurt.

if her portrait had been done by Odilon Redon, she’d be
surrounded by flowers, red for passion, yellow for serenity,
in brown vases, for the charred walls of her abandonment.

her music is orchestral melancholy
female vocalists singing sad songs
tristesse de la lune
(sorrow of the moon)

when she’s lonely enough, she follows me to a barren room.
this thing I do to her in the dark, it’s a little like love.
her eyes are closed, & she won’t remember my face.

she ran so fast, she left herself behind
she passed the sun till it refused to shine
a work of art subverts the model by degrees
it’s never real  –  it’s what the artist sees

a far-away star will fall to the rue outside our window;
by its light I will paint her, & she will be nude.
but it will remain unfinished
and signed artist unknown…


(Art: Emeric Feher)