When we were picturesque,
and the paint was fresh,
you traced the lines running to
and from my heart.
I lost all consciousness,
traveled without rest
as if I never knew
how to depart,
but if I must digress,
using my own brush,
I'll say the greatest truth
to you with art.
2 comments:
Jay, you have a talent for sounding like an old man. (I hope you know I mean that in the best possible way.)
I know what you mean. I think it's because I became so jaded at an early age.
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