Self-love

I am a lady

In a white dress

My desire only to be softly caressed

So I take my paintbrush and Delinquently paint

My face that pleads let love become quaint

I confess to my brushes

Let a man stroke me

With eloquence and grace

As he gazes into the love on my face

La fenêtre you see that I paint so clear

You have to climb in through it

To hold me so dear

Can you not see into my soft sad lonely eyes?

I desire myself

Wrapped inside of you

On canvas

I shall paint forever

Myself

That never existed