for greatly i know with a far away pride
who lately threw stones in attempts to deride my efforts to love you…
…to no avail.
still and soon and lastly I will love my art, which is truly smack-held to my withering heart by all the laws of attraction and such
Tommaso, whom I try to eject, jettison, dry erase from the idea board (can I get a tabula rasa?)
not for loss of love, but for sanity’s sake…….remains.
silly. i can no more untwine Tommaso from my work than i can scoop the ill from my brain and still spare the asters — streaking blinding trails in
the pitch-perfect misery,