i want to make my arms long enough

i came upon a photograph today. drenched in dark light and wood and blond, brown-eyed pain. it captured beauty like a slice of cherry pie served at the apocalypse. its glow tinged by a sadness i’ve never seen. maybe just something the shadows always hid. is the sadness yours or did someone help? i broke a little when i saw it. one who’s helped take so much sadness out of my picture now has its colors reflecting off hers. i want to make my arms long enough. i want to airbrush and photoshop the pain. i guess art needs a little prick, every once in a while. just to remind itself what pleasure is.

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