Back at the beginning of NaPoWriMo, Christine wrote an article at read. write. poem., that summarized some experimental forms.  One of the forms she described was the Rothko, which a poet writes when looking at a painting by Rothko.  There are other artist-forms, and people commented on other possible permutations. 

After that, I thought a Frida Kahlo form would be cool.  Kahlo created self-portraits that relied heavily on her subconscious and her self-image, so I thought a self-portrait with flaws would be apropos.  I never wrote anything on it until this morning, when this poem occurred to me while I was showering. The subconscious is an amazing thing. 

Self-Portrait with Flaws
after Frida Kahlo

I am not sewn together or shorn.  I am
cobbled together and clunky.  I am unsmooth
and imperfect, a trembling vessel
riddled with dings. 
I am encased in shells, invisible
layers of lacquer and shine.  But I am also
spiderwebbed with cracks, thin fissures
zigzagged across my skin.  I am
permeable, though I rarely admit this.
Crack me open, like an egg
and you will find
the soft structure of my self
sleeping, unprotected, inside.