194
Sonnets From Other Lives: Vincent

She had a way of blending into things
about as well as gasoline & water.
I saw her by the fireplace—her wings
tickling the drunk vampire that brought her
to the party. She—a sullen angel—
floated in the room over the cheerful
hoard of nattering masqued suburbanites.
Her face on second look was really fearful
underneath that angry boredom. As the night
dragged on I wondered how the girl
that used to set all our minds on fire
with desire to beautify the world
with our art wound up hosting retired
drones & trophy wives for charity.
She must have just surrendered (much like me).