We are acquiring a sense of belonging and building our own place. It has a staircase spiraling up the tree trunk. Windows will open to hear the birdsong, they will be tui's in summer, kereru at night. Clothes will fall out of wardrobes, materialistic. Do you want to blend in? For if you do I shall paint you in water colour. Or are you bright, bold, beautiful. I shall choose primary oils and acrylics. Are you sticky on the end of the brush or chalky on the end of my fingers. Do you get caught in the creases of my fingerprints? I think not. I think you are a cardboard cut out, solid, rough, brown. She is wispy sketches, grey, white, black. You look at her once but the cardboard wont bend to look around and see her twice. Leaving her, you are seeking me out. Hide and seek. Are we 5? No, but memories crash, waves on a lake shore lapping up the attention you choose to give them.
When you find me I am blurred pastel on paper. Edges undefined.
No comments:
Post a Comment