Portrait of an Unknown Man Clasping a Hand from a Cloud

PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN MAN CLASPING A HAND FROM A CLOUD


the hand is a device for seeing beyond bodies let me follow this with who is the girl no one has touched?

sing three times blood raincloud hush

we sleep like otters amaze ourselves with our slipperiness steep as a cloud

there’s no such thing as this rich stormy purple it comes from inside our eyes like handshakes or landscapes

once I had a child and was a painter I took to the clouds for consolation