PINEAPPLE LIGHTHOUSE

Rechere Paintings

Pastel dots.
The pretty eye fixed
on a distant point,
dislocating distance.
Swats of red,
a decision in the
midst of a storm.
What is it that
has us finishing off
the perfect painting
of a nude.
Tell me how many
anxious moments are
in the aftermath of
your frozen images
of who posed for you.
Done.
And in this reading
of signs
exacting the position
of the sun at noon,
let our love
keep sunsets always
sacred.