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The Lady in Pink I posed as if pinned there, pale arms, the dress frothy, like cotton candy. A chiffon I wore that spring. You will never know how that dress cut, how it singed my skin. Violent pink, like some opaque roses. Each layer of paint a country of wishes, my eyes half closed. So many fell in love with beauty. Not me. I played to it, delivered my face every morning to applause. The more lies I told under covers, the truer they became. But this painting, whatever I asked--- he told the truth. What I risked. That sneer on my lips? Ignorance, arrogance, ambition. He saw that too much sweetness betrayed the grit in me. My hunger. And his, the wild Tartar. Sigrun Susan Lane Sigrun Susan Lane is a Seattle poet. Her poems poems have appeared in a number of regional and national publications including Arnazella, Albatross, Bellowing Ark, Blue Collar Review, Cascade, Chrysanthemum, Crab Creek Review, Cirque, Duckabush, Hubbub, Floating Bridge Press Vol. # 4, 5, 6, 7, JAMA, The Mom Egg, Malahat Review, Melusine, Passager, The Poeming Pigeon, Pontoon # 10, Rain City Review, Raven Chronicles, Sing Heavenly Muse, Seattle Review, Stringtown and Still Crazy. She has have received awards for poetry from the Seattle and the King County Arts Commissions. She has published two chap books from Goldfish press, Little Bones and most recently Salt in 2020. She is a docent at the Frye Art Museum in Seattle Washington.
1 Comment
5/17/2025 04:56:10 pm
Makes me think of all the women I have known that never allowed themselves to be themselves but always what others wanted them to be
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January 2026
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