The pain somewhere far back
Trust broken or a species of betrayal
It's like seeing the portrait from a far
Then peeking in close and realizing
Someone inside the brushstrokes was injured
One of those long overpowering injuries
That takes decades to heal
Maybe that person deserves more
The men that framed it were hated
And perhaps those who happen upon it
Staring at it's anthropomorphic nature
It's mesmerizing feminine hostility
As the color fade let it and it's evocative corporeal figues heal
A slow long cure that contrasts with the aggressive needs
Of a fast chaotic fomo filled present
Where atention buys more than money
To ashes with my own interpretations
Maybe this piece of art will go on to value more in the future
Or maybe it will see zero value in anyone
I refuse to be the critic
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