It is all kind of lovely that I know

what I attend here now the maturity of snow

has settled around forming a sort of time

pushing that other over either horizon and all is mine

in any colors to be chosen and

everything is cold and nothing is totally frozen

soon enough

the primary rough

erosion of what white fat it will occur

stiff yellows O

beautiful beautifully austere

be gotten down to, that much rash and achievement that

would promote to, but

now I know my own red

network electrifying this welcome annual hush.

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, love!

Merciful love that tantalizes not,

One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,

Unmasked, and being seen—without a blot!

O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!

That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest

Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,

That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,

Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,

Withhold no atom’s atom or I die

Or living on perhaps, your wretched thrall,

Forget, in the mist of idle misery,

Life’s purposes,—the palate of my mind

Losing its gust, and my ambition blind

I will paint

Myself as

An old woman

Naked

Looking

Like

A kindly

Gray-haired

Red, green and tan

Beach ball

Sitting on a striped

Chair

How revealing

How honest

How beautiful