Weeping Woman (Dora Maar)
by Grace Nichols
14.
Picasso, I want my face back
the unbroken photography of it
once, I lived to be stroked
by the fingers of your brushes
Now I see I was more an accomplice
to my own uprooting
Watching the pundits gaze
open-mouthed at your masterpieces
While I hovered like a battered muse
my private grief made public
15.
Dora, Theodora, be reasonable, if it wasn’t for Picasso
you’d hardly be remembered at all.
He’s given you an unbelievable shelf-life.
Yes, but who will remember the fruits of my own life?
I am no moth flitting around his wick.
He might be genius but he’s also a prick–
Medusa, Cleopatra, help me find my inner bitch,
wasn’t I christened Henriette Theodora Markovitch?
Picasso, I want my face back
the unbroken photography of it