The Painting

Some veritable gatekeeper 
robed in an undulating golden scarf
a single action revolver
   and nothing else

ceramic thoroughfare the unmarked
avenues of your city streets
your peeling paper lips porcelain glaze
flying saucer in your stomach

framed in eternal threshold
in black and white charcoal
my silver smoke sifts across
the flattened features
   of your face

your roving eyes masked in mist
so that I can outrun your judgement
and your rejection.

TA