An Erotica of Truth
The thing is, I find beauty in unlikely places.
I prefer the raw to veneers.
Show me the broken bones and I will understand
the building, the work, the why of beauty
in all its uncomfortable truth,
a far more intricate masterpiece than paint
and empty flirtations, trustworthy,
an erotica of truth.
About this poem.
- I am in my second marriage, a radically different thing than my first. Not easier, better, with its own kind of beauty. I sing songs of gratitude every day. Mostly it looks like dad dancing, but still…..
- I like to understand things, people, politics, old buildings, art. I like to ‘get it”. I don’t always, but I like to.
- I am an introvert’s introvert. Give me intimate conversation over a crowd any day. A crowd being any number over 4.
From all that, this little poem.