The Painter
by and published in Edition Four of Pomegranate
I see your lips in sepia:
a hundred years ago you would have been
captured on tintype and touched,
with eggshell and vermilion, by some
smitten young boy with paint-streaked hands.
He would know, intuitively, that
you had been sucking raspberry juice
from my thumb. He would catch
your gentle mockery and know how best to
display it against all your sharp angles.
I am jealous of your would-have-been
could-have-been painter.
I will never know you as he does.
Rosamund Williams
Rosamund Williams is 18 and currently lives in Wales. Come September she’ll be studying for a BA in Classical Studies at King’s College London (grades willing!). She spends far too much time listening to music, talking to inanimate objects, and daydreaming.