Seeing Frida

This is the poem I wrote for David for his birthday. It was inspired by a visit today to the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

Seeing Frida
For David Berube for his birthday y para amor.

In the belly of Frida
I hear an echo of the first time
You said “I love you.”
Little nips (piquetas) into my chest
Those three words changed everything
Like Frida
I sat beside myself
My heart moved outward floating in the air
Connecting body and spirit by fragile veins
You my Diego Rivera
Standing tall beside me
Holding my hand
The veins pierce my throat
Pounding
I find it hard to breathe with you there
It’s surreal surrounded by her self-portraits
I see myself in her
She found it hard to believe in love
Or believe that love
Could twist and turn and arch like the mistress
In Diego’s arms
Like Frida
I pour out through my eyes the memory of that first I love you
My cock hardening
My breath catching
Hoping that the lust I have seen in you for others
Will, from time to time, eclipse I love yous of the mind
Paint me I love yous of the body
On my canvas
On my all too willing brush
It remembers the first taste of your palette
Soft, wet shadings as I nervously prepared for the first stroke
Laying in your arms my heart cracked
Little nips torn out by honesty
Little nips that felt like a pole pushing through me
Like Frida
Laying in traction
Not knowing the depth and impact
Until attempting to rise
Until attempting to paint again
In the end Frida and Diego stood side by side
As they painted
And here surrounded by Frida,
I can see the ghost of Diego’s love in her eyes.

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-23 September 2008
-Museum of Modern Art, San Francisco, California