life drawing

I would go,
take off
all my clothes
just so
they could turn me into
works of art.
Each representation
so
different;
the obvious portrayed
on some,
subtleties in others.
Yet somehow
I was reflected
in each and
every one,
as was the creator.
Imagination at its
finest.

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life left in me

I bet
you’re just
like all
the rest;
not a dog,
you say,
but I see you,
running the
other way.
She barks,
you jump
and stop your
straying
with me,
now left
behind again.
In the light
I pretend
not to notice,
but by
daybreak
I’ve wilted
and there is
no life
left in me.