MODIGLIANI

Liquid lover
easing your thirst
for drawing out
of a marginal life
curled up on a broken sofa
like the black feral cat
you pick up in an alley
by the old Paris theater
you are quietly
listening to Offenbach
eating a tiny croissant
over a one rug of studio
alone by a fresh canvas
watching the daily rain
transparent as wounds
in a shadowy ashen sea
of coloring voices
from a crystal palette
your new lover will pose
for you at midnight
is expecting more suffering
from hunger's presence
yet between your fingers
you reflect your luminous
imparting at five dimensions
where underground signals
give off a transformation
of first light
by the warmth
to communicate art
and to be wounded by
a perpetual child's heart
transparently disfigured.