just a little quick piece I wrote while I was in an art gallery in dublin

Looking at paintings from the renaissance,
I like to imagine that there was a time
when women loved their bodies so much,
they only wore clothes at their own convenience.
A time when they were so holy, so respected,
that men painted them but dared not touch them.
A time when women walked on air,
when they shaved nothing,
changed nothing.
When they went wild on wine and ambrosia
when they gave way to sins of the flesh
without guilt and without fear.
I imagine a time when “sin” was a word that meant nothing–
when the only sins were touching those
who did not want to be touched
or lying of love.
I imagine a world far away,
captured in acrylic and oil,
spun into forever by hands steadier than mine.
A world where naked women hold their babies to their breasts,
where they rise from the cups of seashells,
a world untouched by time or pain,
a world behind the fresco.
—  Renaissance, by Ashe Vernon