Egon Schiele, ‘Lovers (Self-Portrait with Wally)’ (1914)

by Bobby Murray


The worst headache
came and stayed
when you left.

And it figures—
the clutch,
only you know the depth;

the stroke of my back,
the scarlet
of my sex—

my prayer in a
rubicund dress.

I’ll form with your
newly expressed—

and dance with your body
the canvas,

and come as your woman
to leave
as your guest,

but I am bemused—
with your hand
on my head.


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