If I Am the Girl
in Ruth Orkin’s Photograph

              I’ve been sketching David, the slingshot man-boy
on his pedestal in Florence, drawing

          lines of communication between his
cocked left arm and a boy in pajamas

          carrying his toy to the breakfast table,
drawing in the margins of blank air around

          his body: smoke raising scribbled branches,
horse rumps running, curves of fender and hood

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