Linda Pastan - Vermilion
Read 'Linda Pastan - Vermilion' by 'Linda Pastan' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
Linda Pastan - Vermilion by Linda Pastan
Pierre Bonnard would enter
the museum with a tube of paint
in his pocket and a sable brush.
Then violating the sanctity
of one of his own frames
he'd add a stroke of vermilion
to the skin of a flower.
Just so I stopped you
at the door this morning
and licking my index finger, removed
an invisible crumb
from your vermilion mouth. As if
at the ritual moment of departure
I had to show you still belonged to me.
As if revision were
the purest form of love.
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