After The Red Armchair

without your left breast

at the center

red armchair bare,

her form and volume

shaped out of non conformity,

yet erotic

in stony contours

sculpture out of place

i could make love to you,

armchair you are on your

own now,

that room

Pablo will not touch

or pick at cracking

eggshell blue walls,

vented upon canvas

room silent

in here lost,

blank windows with a view

that now lacks a coherence,

all for you

awaiting more buttocks

to compress your springs

reshape and accentuate

and bring pleasure

to a worn nothing

 

 

also thought of Pablo Picasso woman in a red armchair