paint

paint on plywood; a million colors thick. layer upon layer stacking to create a new colour never before seen by the transverse eye of an artist. no paintbrushes or turpentine or water. all love. love sprayed onto an easel from the metaphorically slit jugular vein. life emptied out in an act of adoration for a simple straight-toothed smile with the sounds of a third wave guitar strumming lazily in the eardrums of this poet. the keffiyeh wrapped around the neck as a tourniquet for the wound that was never inflicted. spilling life forever for a friend, maybe an enemy, and always a lover. the carpet stained black and the sorrow is released. eclecticism of colour is all it takes to twist the heart into submission and manipulate the mind to feel emotionally unstable. living for the one day left before the apocalypse in the form of cupid riding on wolf-back. the red clouds slip above the blackened eyes of a woman, crying. the tears of white purity lift my soul into eternal sunset.