Handbags at dawn in the depths of the forest
Oil on canvas 2019
Rise to meet with an outstretched hand
but all I get is a snarl and a glare
It's handbags at dawn then
for all I care
No womb warmth there, no hands held in circles
Made sure to feel I'm not one of the locals.
Don't they see
this isn't the way life needs to be.