Look, I need to be seated
In a westward window
At 5 pm, at all times.
Do not perceive me
Otherwise. I want to die
Like an aristocrat
Or at least a Dutch
Merchant, with a perfect
Version of myself, hung
Like a reverse Dorian Gray
Which is to say, just
A normal commissioned artwork
With the usual six-figure flattery.

When we went to the museum
And two out of three floors
Were closed, you laughed
And grabbed my hand.
I want that on tape. I want
Encased in amber
The way you turned
Failures to triumphs.