Blue Painting of a Woman and a Bicycle br br At the foot of the Eiffel Tower I paint her likeness br with furious sensuous contrasts of sanguine and ultra br marine hues. I visualize a couple of russet hard rubber br nickel-plated spokes and pedals spinning, twinkling br on either side of her y-fork limbs. br br Built like a brick shithouse I fancy reading the dimness br of her isosceles tri-angled intimacy with the tips br of my fingers as if my whole body were Braille br palpating the warm seams of her mix of delicate br valleys and tightly canvassed vertebrae. br br I clam her tongue-soft brake pads where she’s joined br her shiny hula hoops and rose pomegranate seat and br paint her breathlessly, whilst she races her thighs against, br by now, my deflowered labia in the style of de Kooning br melding in her peculiar yet stylish hip sway.