Today I sit before a blank gesso-painted
I've finished your biography.
I've read your "unabridged" journals...
and here beside me, as invisible as gas,
I feel you.
And I want to be brainy, like you,
And I want to be an acetyline virgin,
And I want, and I want.
I'm going to paint you, SP.
Your eyes will look directly at me
From a face shiny with temperature,
and bees will fly from your lips,
And I will call it SP 2,002 degrees.
I hope you've found the kind of peace
you like best.
Flying forever forward, never setting
Foot upon the ground.
Love like lava, beautiful, beautiful
You are not a victim.
You are a torch.
And like all things that burn
with fevers or with flame,
you were consumed.
It's the gentle way of things.
I believe you knew that better
Than they think.
Athens. GA, US
Monday, April 29, 2002
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