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Jul 30
Sometimes I stay on a while, once his work's done.
Depends on his mood. Today I’ll not.

Won’t let me see, but can tell he’s drawing me sweet.
He didn’t handle me into position-

Instead, worked an inch or so above hip and thigh
with invisible thread.

And- dragged across paper, the charcoal is pleading.
Often it whispers and moans.

The strokes that he’s using are careful, considered.
I'd rather go home.

muse: A bad day at the office.
Written by
ju  F/England
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