After Love...

I hesitated a long time for the title (I first thought to "Red Satin"). I also tried a version just in grey scale... And finally I put this one.
Photo reference used.


Specially dedicated to Thank you, John, for all the beautiful photos you post on dA. As you know, you're my favourite photographer, a true artist, but above all you're an awesome guy.





This picture has inspired those awesome free verse poems to
Thank you so much dear Sharon
His Blackberry Rock and Roll DreamsThe quail rain hits the glass and splits in half against the windowpane
while you're sprawled on the cloud grey mattress, idling smoking a cigarette.
We are in a green room at the La Quinta motel near a sunburned Texas highway.
We do this sometimes; drive away from our respective hometowns and pretend
we're different people with movie-type of stories.
Perhaps it's immature but for a few bank-robbed
moments,we are not lying just to breathe easily.
You understand why my father might disown me and extend a hand, saying,
"Come here," very quietly as if there's a secret in that whisper only
I can detect because we made it up together one wasted September
between rusted cars, long, untamed grass and
my aqua scarf draped across your flesh.
I accept your invitation and sit on the bed,
despite the stress rolling off my toxic body.
"Someday we'll leave for real," you declare
and I think, "Will you still want me then?
When your fingertips have left shadows on my stomach
and our lips have forgotte after loveYour cheek pressed against my arm,
making it go numb.
I watched as your
eyelashes tattooed
eagle feathers onto your flesh
and counted the kid-like freckles
along the bridge of your nose
as you fell asleep
next to me on an unmade bed
in a room that was once a basement.
I think I'm too
far gone in this stupor,
in this trance I'm in
whenever you come over
and we play stupid video games
like that's all we ever think about,
like that's natural;
an everyday thing.
But boy, we both know I'm not your
friend in the ordinary sense.
I'm something you crave in
your shadowy mind,
something I can't stand but
still reciprocate.
That's just the way it is.
I'm uncomfortable
with your secrets
but you get used to mine right away.
How is that fair?
I want to be just as brave.
Inside, I'm nothing but pieces of
lost childhood;
bottle caps,
bubblegum wrappers
and pink stickers that say,
"Sometimes I'm lost
but I'm still a boy,
wanting to experience
the Spectacular Now."
Is that possible,
how my thoughts
can



Wacom with Corel + PS CS6
Around 10 hours.