Found this at the back of my storage unit the other day and I thought I would share it with you all. I call it 1986.

We bought Chandeliers, I painted the house Black and Blue. He gave me a tall prickly cactus for Xmas and a nasty bladder infection.

Eyeliner and greasy hair he kissed me a New Year, soo skinny he said “baby” then turned away. He said “baby” then turned away again slowly. Cigarette pants and pointy shoes he danced like a gay lady.

Antique painting, Vintage dress of navy color, dusty old room with hardwood floor. I cried, when I saw his mother it was her that I loved more. I’d known her from many years before.

Peered silhouette of grand piano and faded ancient statue through opened door. Early morning Sunray Glimmered past window upon her face, skin freckled with ginger.

Embarrassed, she said she hadn’t yet painted her face, beige lipstick and false lashes. Embarrassed, she knew she was beautiful and walked about the house naked. He said she cooked as she painted, overlapping green asparagus and yellow lemon circles. He said she lived as she painted, delicate flower wilting in front of gilded mirror.

One day he surprised me recoiling he blamed her affection lavished on her dogs, her horses and not people. He pained over her love for things and not him. With tears he said he despised and hated her.

Spring is freedom and in springtime he left me for Paris. In a letter, he complained about chasing away rats from food chilled on a windowsill. He complained about toothaches and poverty, but he had married a bass guitar in a jazz band long ago and said or vowed he’d never be rich.

She followed him eventually to paint and grow flowers in a perfect country cottage garden, living on daddy’s will and trust. I never saw them again but heard she had stolen away a French woman’s husband.