Flutiebear: Rambling My Way Through Thedas

Dean, what are you doing here?

Some loves were never meant to be
taken off the wall, the canvas inspected
for discolorations and lumps—
the sins of the painter
hastily covered up
with valiant tans and blues.

you were always my favorite first draft
if it’s any consolation; I must have painted over you
a thousand times.
eventually I got it right
eventually

though first I had to peel back all the layers
covering you up. so I
scoured you head to toe with sandpaper;
washed your hair with turpentine;
melted away your clothes
with a hairdryer as hot as hellfire
until all that was left
was your bold mouth, and
charcoal curves
so primal and ferocious.

the original of Lisa
wasn’t as clear as I’d remembered
its anatomy all wrong, like a dream interrupted—
how I ended up so far afield from the concept
I’m still not sure

so forgive me, goddess
for doing your beauty such injustice;
forgive me, goddess
I should have sculpted you instead.
my hands then could have translated
what the mind could not
and I could fix you and fix you and fix you
until I finally got it right

but of course we both know
some things are
better left
untouched.

(via prisseusjackson)