Posing for a formal
portrait makes
it seem as if it isn’t only possible
but normal to be dressed
and pressed into
a scheme
wherein some consequentially
defining meaning might be caught –
so that in some bedimmed posterity
when you are
thought of,
if you’re thought
of, something might be known,
by something shown: a swatch
of an
incontrovertibility: that you’d
been seen, and
could be seen again. That might be nice.
Let’s get painted twice.
.
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