I wanted to see something in her.

I deformed her to make her better.

In my eyes. Maybe I thought that she

Needed to be moulded by me so that I could

Own her. I would sadden her inconsolably.

She was her own person or was looking for herself

Until our paths crossed and we met with our masks on.

 

I thought of her as a poetic body

From a different time, misfit and

Longing for things she had no idea

She desired. And we revolted without

Understanding why, without knowing

Who we were and why we had a certain

Chemistry for a moment in time.

Rippl_Woman_with_Grapes

“Woman with Grapes” by József Rippl-Rónai (1861-1927)

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