Love Paintings

You call them love paintings, 
you gave me the title yesterday

You’re sitting on your haunches, 
there’s a scratched area in front of your navel
                                   white incised lines 
man-milk coming like a sun-burst 
lighting her up 
she looks at him with her two faces, 
one inside the other 
I paint both with a colour I like, it’s night mixed with day 
then I paint away his face, 
the one with the closed smiling eyes; now I draw them open, 
yellow like an eagle:
he’s crouching beside her

his white wings poised 
their chalky scent gladdens her heart
heaven dust 
settles on her lips

 

 

Kate Walters

 

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