the renaissance

we were a masterpiece

our canvas stretched

in tender accommodation

of all things; he and I

a kismet caricature

a collaboration of vulpine flesh

and long distance loyalty

unlikely locations uniting

a charming sort of synthesis

between the lunar moods

of the ocean tides

and the enduring strength

of the mountain pines

unexpected parallels; he and I

devil’s in the details

intricacies inevitably

fading to cherished memories

in unappreciated hues

we were self exiled

to a stale corner of love’s attic

buried amidst heirloom clutter

a time capsule; he and I

somewhere among the shadows

rows of azalea fiberglass insulation

the insincerity mingled

with upper floor humidity

our coverings decompose

revealing the lover’s beneath

let this be rediscovery

let this be the renaissance

a. duncan, 2017



artwork: jake wood-evans



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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

One thought on “the renaissance

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