top of page
Search
    • Jul 25, 2020
    • 1 min read

A Painting of My Unliving

Updated: Mar 19, 2021

A painting of my death

Strokes thick, luscious

In

That

Way

Only paint can be

And you will not be able to tell

Where I am going

Caught up in the infinite

Ecstasy of life

I forgot to breath

And I bled deep maroon

Sliver of ivory arm flung across

A chaise lounge

Like a swimmer drifting next

To the hull of a ship

She only holds on because she is too afraid to let go

Foreground in freefall with background

I am both subject and scenery

Watch me backfloat in sea

Too viscous to be realistic

Too profound to be anything less than truth

Painting of my unliving


Recent Posts

See All

homeland

I do not know when my family came to Ukraine for how many centuries they stayed for how much DNA lies buried in cemeteries with half-closed gates names half-heartedly scrubbed away by time but I do kn

Inauguration Day Reflection

four years ago, I watched seas of red wash over the capitol building, fire and brimstone and cries of American carnage perched in the rumbled of red and white and a crowd of much-contested number fou

Personal Space

delicate guardrails dot the distance of 24 to 168 inches between us if we were close like swinging childrens’ hands only 18 to 24 inches foot in plural between the vibration of your larynx and the twi

bottom of page