I notice the moon has the same round ass
she had that night thirty years ago
when such things mattered
how long it takes to figure out
the body is just an artifact
of time and sex can become
a kind of recreational activity
passionately tying us to the earth
we fall in love with the painting
and experience nothing of the painter
how she or he lives with blind
devotion to the light and just content
to be making painting after painting
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