And the veterinarian loved animals, so she played the part.
And I loved words and signed up for that one.
“But I’ve lost the words to find righteousness in thought, ” I said.
“Or maybe there are no words for the feelings that string together and lead back to worms.”
So I picked up colors and paint brushes, and abandoned thought.
Pushing through to the next costume change.
Portrait of the artist as a young man of 53.
Ah, the scandal for decades lost. Or were they ever owned?