Woman with Tambourine by Picasso
I catch the glimpse and gleam of Picasso...in my mirror,
He invaded my soul by accident, both of us somewhat
like stubborn toddlers sitting in a highchair,
waiting to be fed life, a little excited, a little anxious,
and somewhere inside my chest, I knew both of us traveled
with misery and fear of disease, our faces wet with sweat
and tears, our egos plump, moving from one hateful
place to another, our hands cutting the air into
magic masks we hide behind, both craving and loathing
the pain of love.
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A pain of love, not less.
Georg
Marcia
like stubborn toddlers sitting in a highchair,
waiting to be fed life....
-gene