Thirty Days Of Julia: Day Seventeen

Prince Charles said: whatever love means. I knew
what he meant, for I was not in sync with
the New Romantic rhythm. I goose-stepped
with Kraftwerk, chilled out with Brian Eno. Danced
to the motorik beat, rather than posed
with the kitsch aesthetic. That she was more
beautiful than I deserved, I did not
deny. What would have been faults in others,
I accepted as part of the package.
Was that love? A tin of white emulsion,
to misquote Tina Turner. A veneer
to coat the world, conceal its blemishes
and brighten its walls. To wield an air-brush
was a greater skill than painting portraits.