Thoughts & Poetry

The Art of Me

There was a time when all you see was me… camera phone in hand, you’d capture me.

Vulnerable, as you clicked. Stripped down naked, curled up in bed or with a drink.

Never in my life had I been photographed the way you did to me… All my life, that will always be the art of me.

Black and white, cause you always said I had a classic beauty. Even to this day, you admit that I am one and only…

Though no longer yours, your heart always held me close.

Though no longer mine, your photographs of me would stand the test of time.

A corporate tough cookie with the soul of a gypsy. Professional bathroom singer. Teacher. Poet. A light-eyed dreamer who nitpicks for a living as she waits for redamancy.

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