I divested myself
of the constrictions
of modern society
that suggests my curves
are borderline obese

but an artist eye
doesn't see this

It pictures the dips
and hollows of life
bearing another soul
over and over
Connoisseurs of Form
appreciate my nakedness
as I'm transferred to canvas
with pigments of ochre
and red and charcoal blacks
Smudges are incorporated
into telling lines that lie

But there are no easels
nor a paintbrush in sight
I'm standing naked under
a moon full and bright
for the sake of art
the only person painting me

in perfection

*is me