Title : The Solitary Painter
When I could not unravel myself
I began to paint myself
down to the finest detail.
The canvas became my mirror
and oh what a reckoning it is to draw every crooked contour
Title : The Solitary Painter
When I could not unravel myself
I began to paint myself
down to the finest detail.
The canvas became my mirror
and oh what a reckoning it is to draw every crooked contour
with the very hand that had carved it on my face in the first place,
with trembling worries,
with dragging sorrows,
with hollowing lonelinesses.
All I could see were my sins,
how far I had strayed from the original,
the pristine, golden, angelic face.
And I’m sure there are others
with maladies like mine
but in the horror of my own reflection
to all else, I’d turned blind.
-Anum Khan
Anum