Castaway

I am like a beggar.
My arms elongate
against
the chandelier of your effulgence.

I am your lost soul,
forgotten,
stained,
with the unfamiliar stench of this world.

Without you
I am the transparency,
subjected
to the experience of taste,
drawings, on the blankness,
a wanderer,
a Renoir,
painting
your reminiscence.