Hopkins Avenue Studio

Para Oskar

It was not a photographic studio
But we pictured every inch of our anatomies
In Black and White
In color
In naked

It was not a painter’s studio either
But we painted each other
With the brush of our tongues
Coloring
Each
Inch
Of our skins

No, it was not a recording studio
Although our groans and moans
Could have been music to someone’s ears
Especially when being alone
Renders the sounds of the silence
Unbearable