Self
I am a lady
In a white dress
My desire only to be softly caressed
So I take my paint brush, and delinquently paint
My face that pleads let love become quaint
I confess to my brushes
Let a man stroke me
With eloquence and grace
As he gazes into the love on my face
La fenêtre you see that I paint so clear
You have to climb in through it
To hold me so dear
Can you not see into my soft sad lonely eyes?
I desire myself
Wrapped inside of you
On canvas
I shall paint forever
Myself
That never existed
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