For Ernst Kirchner

'Just sit,' he said, 'And let me paint.'
I dozed off in the chair by the window
My  hem rolled up
Outside the town was in bloom
Beside me a saucer with a cigarette
He brushed my hair, put a ribbon in it
Told me to sleep.

But I couldn't sleep
with him scooping
my flesh up onto a palette
When I moved he asked
if I needed the toilet.
I said no and settled back
He carried on.

When he finished, he said
They were coming to destroy him
And all his work but I
Would be the dragon that devoured them.
He tried to kiss me
a wet canvas
Close to his shattered face and quiet gun.