Intro: Lost in the Philadelphia Cold of the twelfth month, our protagonist orients his mind in a fading frost under the p.m. blue blanket above  

Resistant Masterpiece
her flesh drawn on the back of a Western Sky:::
sketch her, my amber autumn sun descended, always wicked with winter intentions,
...bandit thoughts unending,  
...eyes watching,
...she steals another day

blushing colors infect me::: that lust contagion::: the drip drop of chromatic desire falls on a faded floor
I still see (seek) her
in all her in autumnal glory
to again be a bewitched and press perspiration upon ruby red flesh
like a favorite Baroque portrait
against the widening winter wall