In Still Life. {poetry}
Painting with acrylic
Or oil and turpentines on canvas
The latter muddy, dirty, impossible to erase
I insist on it
I’d choose the kinder more forgiving medium
Had it chosen me
Once upon a time it did
I tasted a bit of its palette
The swirls and whirls of soft but vivid colors
Water before it completely dries
And its gone
My hands and favorite shirts
Oh why I wear them when I shouldn’t
They all bear reminders
Of deep reds and blues
That cannot be erased
When there was a voice
A gaze
A smile
Inanimate objects written by you
Of oils and turpentines and linseed oil
In this raging ocean, inside
Of what’s now a still life
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