Sitting stiffly, serious

In his confusion towards

Your endeavor;

You gave Trabuc

His poise, humanity

In one human

Holding your pallette,

Smeared with blues, purples

For your cloak, painted

In long-swept strokes,

Reddish gold for your hair,

In your short-stroke style,

Your self, never absolute,

In contrasts

I am frightened

By the hospital patient

You painted, humanity

In a face, so empty,

Searching for a belief

Which doesn’t

Defile him, and

So willing to accept

Whatever reproaches it

I am frightened

By your portrait

In greens: brownish greens,

Yellowish greens,

The eyes sinking back,

Swallowed by your fixations

I want to embrace you

Long dead, I want

To embrace you

Quiet, assured

Composed, comfortable

In her nonchalance

Towards you;

You gave Ginoux

Her amusement

When painting people

You always return

To Vincent, or often

The theme of the couple,

The unknown woman

Walking with the man

Who may be the artist;

When I see them together

I feel your lonliness and

I want to embrace you

Long dead, I want