Not for Love or Money

Another one that keeps getting turned down. So many times, I’ve lost count. Written for NaPo in 2014, I thought it was a bit of a breakthrough for me. Hmm, others obviously think it’s the poetry equivalent of a second hand sequinned halter-neck top from Primark or a much worn viscose skirt by Viyella– only fit for the £2 bargain rail at Oxfam, if that. So here goes:

Raw

Your sensor scans my meta data,
undiluted–
a gamut of colour segued
into a balancing act,
confounds translation,
defies definition–
my bitmap of blood and skin,
unenhanced,
pegged to normal,
tamed–
a liability of pixel purity
betrayed in layers,
subject to manipulation,
jagged made smooth,
in careful grading capturing
a dynamic range,
tempered,
castrated anew–
unreasonable desires
unsealed from the hermetic,
once taboo,
now expurgated,
refined from raw–
cannot hide the history of you.

**

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Not for Love or Money

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