~
Here is an assertion
and showiness
in the expanse
of white skin – from her
high forehead,
down her graceful neck,
shoulders, and arms.
Although the black
of her dress is bold,
it is also deep, recessive,
and mysterious.

He stalks her
as one does a deer,
his palette composed of
lead white, rose madder,
vermilion, viridian,
and bone black.
A dash of light rose
over the former
gloomy background,
you see, and
the élancée figure
shows to much
greater advantage.

Her body boldly
faces forward while
her head is turned in profile.
A profile of both
assertion and retreat.
The table provides support,
and echoes her
curves and stance.
One strap of her gown
has fallen down
her right shoulder,
suggesting the possibility
of further revelation;
one more struggle
and the lady will be free.

Everything converges to
imply a distant sexuality
under the professional
control of the sitter,
rather than offered for
the viewer's delectation.
Her untamed wilderness
remains unseen.
~

Laughter and leisure as free will flows
Attention fades in this comfort zone
Chatter with chewing, mixed between both
Unknown senses tickle the throat

More than a stutter
Chuckle has froze
Esophagus tightened
Pretense to pose
Raising some questions
They already know
Air flow now closed

Gasping as no space left kept for breath
Eyes turn to water bloodshot entry blocked
Unimpressed to be consumed by death
Slapped to the back
Less access this isn't a test

She was a lovely looking thing,
A beautiful young blonde girl/woman
She hadn't been with us long... at
   work
She was smart and sassy, even a little
   scary
Held strong opinions on some things,
She lived close to where I lived, only
   a few miles away
So I was sitting amongst them one
   day, the girls/the ladies
They were a little bored that day and
   for some sport
Were trying to draw me out, to get me    
   to open up a little
To reveal some more about my ways
   and my life
So I thought I'd have some fun with
   them
I told them I did some painting as a
   hobby
And that my speciality was 'the
   female ****'
But alas! I had a problem, I had no
   one to sit for me
"If only I had some beautiful nymph, some haughty Queen, some dazzling princess", I lamented
And then I'd gaze over at Her, give her
   a longing look,
Then of course, someone upped and
   said the obvious
" Jen....don't you live close to where he lives, would you not go sit for him "
My face it lit up and I smiled
"No! I would not!!! she said
   emphatically, disgusted
Now I knew from the Christmas party
   she liked to drink Gin
So I said enticingly "I'll throw in a
   few bottles of Gin"
"I'd never pose **** for anyone", she replied again emphatically, "it'd be embarrassing, it'd be degrading! Sitting naked before some man!",
" But ", I replied, " you wouldn't be embarrassed sitting for me
'Cos when I paint a **** I insist on
   being in the **** myself as well
So as to make my Sitter feel more at
   home, more at ease
Yeah, Me! I'm very... Avant Garde"
(said with a devilish twinkle in my eye)
Still she resisted my painterly
   charms
So as to further entice her I said
"I'll even cook you breakfast, no one can resist my lovely sizzling sausages".
I felt as though I'd dangled my carrot
   right in her face
But still she wouldn't take the bait.
I suppose I was lucky she hadn't for if
   she had of (agreed)
I would have had to have learnt how
   to paint Nudes real fast
And how to cook sausages and other
   breakfast repast.

Life does not reward
Disregard
Or looking cool
smoking a cigar
When you look away
(Smiling)
No one's looking at you
(Darling)

You act so nonchalant
And spend so much time
Low-sweet-perfecting
(your speech)
You've forgotten what you meant
To say

""It's weird, you know. Meeting all the requirements for living things, but not feeling like it. You tell yourself just breathe, breathe in an out, in and out, until you can do it without reminding yourself. I find it amazing. What makes us human? Genetically, trillions of things, but what makes us separate from all these 'wild animals'? Compassion? Compromise? I haven't seen that in years. At least not in genuine fashion. Those all come at a cost. Everyone wants something in return for it. I think that's what fuels my fire, knowing everything comes at a price."
"Love comes at no cost" she'd say.
"Love comes at the highest cost: there is expected love in return. There, you are expected to keep living, breathing. They want you around, even if you don't want to be there yourself. That's the cost of living and love. Doing more than just existing in this world, even if it's just for others sake.""

I want you.

I want to know your favorite color and your middle name.
I want to know about the people you hate and how you found out you loved women.

How do you make your sandwiches?
What foods do you like and can’t pronounce?
What places do you want to see and what words do you know but can’t explain the definition?

Can we cuddle?  
And by cuddle I don’t just mean lay on you, because trust me, I can do that without cuddling. By cuddling I mean let me hold you till you forget your problems and I finally stop talking.

I want to call you baby. I want to sit in a room, with you, listening to jazz music.

I want to feel your pulse and you feel mine,
I want to hear your heartbeat dance to the rhythm of the same songs on the corny playlist on Spotify I made that remind me of you.

The Special Playlist,
(I call it)
The Makeout Playlist,
(you do).

I want to only be about to hear our synced hearts
and the slow songs
and the weight of the world leaving our shoulders
plopping onto the floor with your worries
and the jacket I took off of you when you first came in.

I want you to tease me
because I significantly failed as a former lesbian
because I’ve never watched Orange is the New Black
or The L Word
“You’re not Lesbian certified”
You’ll tell me.

I want to speak to you
In my limited German vocabulary
and watch gay movies
and let you tease me even more
when you find out I can’t sit through *** scenes
even the really gay ones,
and ****** isn’t my thing.
It’s okay though,
Your laugh is cute.

And I want to kiss you.
I want to kiss you like
we’re those ***** *** teenagers
from Romeo and Juliet,
(but with a better ending).
I want to kiss you like
there’s nobody else in the world
And there aren’t people who hate me for liking you
And your family won’t care if you love me because
****,
I want to kiss you.

Let me buy you flowers,
and want to take you on dates.

Let me take you to McDonald’s
and order off the dollar menu because
I believe in treating my girl right
(And I get an employee discount)

let me tell you why I churches make me nervous
and how I don’t believe in God and
why I don’t like birthday parties
And how I want to have my cake and eat it too
Even though I hate cake
And prefer cupcakes,
But nothing is better than cake if that’s you.

I want you to know why I played trumpet for three years then switched to baritone,
I want to know if you’ve ever done drugs and how it felt.
What are your morals and values?
What’s your utopia?

I want to send you goodnight texts and spend hours talking about nothing
And dance offbeat with you because
neither of us could have rhythm to save our lives.
I’ll let you scream fight me when I let you win in games I would destroy you at because you get that goofy smile when you think you’ve won.

Introduce me to your family and I’ll show you mine.
Let me see your baby photos and we can see foreign movies on Netflix.
Let’s go out for coffee and ask deep questions.


I don’t care, okay?
I just want you.

"It was just a joke, stop being so serious."

I haven't been to church since I was 14.

At age 7,
I was introduced to my new baptist church.
I recited scriptures and played game and was always excited to go.

At age 12,
I was heading into middle school and won the church's bible challenge.
I was queer, I was Christian, I was unexcited to go to church.
It felt like everyone was staring.

When I was 13,
I had my first kiss with a girl,
my first major girl crush,
my first run in with homophobia.
My classmate said **** off with someone else,
my church said mothers should protect their children from homosexuality.
I wondered what was wrong with that.
When I was 13,
I watched my mother clap to the pastor not knowing she had one.
I watched the youth church pastor make fun of queer kids, not knowing he had some in the room.
I watched a girl I knew was gay clap along like she wasn't one of them
-one of us.
When I was 13,
I watched my first crush date my best friend,
she didn't want anyone to know she was gay.
When I was 13,
I came out to my family.

When I was 14,
I went to church for one last time,
A woman prayed the devil take this phase out of me, and put the holy spirit in.
I broke down in Walmart afterwards.

My mother said I never had to go back to that church again.
I still have some dreams about it.

When I was 15,
I declared no religion, I declared no ties to anyone.
I was just black & queer.