her waif-like body

[pencil, color pencil, water color & photoshop]

the expat

I can pack my life in two suitcases, said Guillaume;
like a snail that carries its home on its back
moving several times a year

to be free is to never own a picture frame,
to let a woman occasionally slip
through the door a little bird

mais when she starts to build her nest: a mis-
placed bobby pin here and there a toothbrush
or her scent: au revoir, au revoir.

And he gazed up at the four blank walls
of his Manhattan studio, like a proud Robinson Crusoe
master of his island, stranded in self-

sufficiency before
the footprint in the sand.