avant garde
in kindergarten I was too
avant garde for coloring books
no work from that era
survives today
my mother attempted to save my
hand turkeys
but I lectured her, scolded her,
ranted on how a true artist consigns her work to
oblivion
no one understood and all my friends were hacks
only Sara mattered
the girl — who unveiled me
her shades of pink
Sara
whose shades were endless —
I now paint self-portraits in her image