Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Portrait

I tap the brush inside the glass
looking at the layer laid

The canvas is as done as it will be

I never see what I am looking for
only what is

I suppose that’s all I can expect

Reality has a way of creeping
into all the best fantasies

Particularly fantasies that imply
communication

It doesn’t really look like you
I suppose

But the eyes

They do

That’s the part of you
that spoke the loudest

The part I should have listened to

While I had the chance
to trace you more closely

Not with cold pigments
but with my hands

(c) RCGA, 2013

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