Paint-her

colors love me tender as I cover the naked canvas
with soft cotton threads
of scarlet and blue catching silver clouds
from imaginations glorious skies
softening them with the mist from my eyes
smothering their raw smell
all over my slender hands
like a child carefree
caressing the gentle clay
a sculptor worshipping the untidy mud
nature before its creation

colors love me tender
as I borrow the dawns sheen
bring the unsung shadows to light
walk with the unborn beings
who brawl and make love
in the dark shaky streets
of my velvet chaotic mind
running my hands over their dim faces
to recognize love from angst

colors love me tender
as the crimson drop of blood
from my scratched wound
swims through the dried creeks of my palm
leaving a faint chill on my fingertips
before varnishing a grey worn out mould
I search their nascent eyes
For my most precious fresco
the one that exists in a mocked dream
the one ill never paint