Lady, all but few think your poems are
autobiographical, starting from the earliest
sources (you were already a myth). They
so want to believe such passionate people
existed both in love and written words,
that one can have both, the embraces
of flesh as well as brush. Yet I rather think
you wrote your yearnings, not your
experiences, that we face a poetic persona,
a hand-fan painted by a master raised
before a person forever hidden. Such amply
full-filled passions as yours rarely exist outside
works of romance, from the Provencal troubadours
to Harlequin paperbacks. Nothing new,
we've always have had this with you passionate
artists of love in words. Catullus and Petrarca
and the rest no different; well-polished
fictions of self and feelings. But who
are we dry as bone cynics to say that
you who wrote great love poetry
didn't live your words outside
parchment, bark and silk?
At least you pretended
that you lived.
11.04.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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