A canvas is merely a mirror
Yet, I change to fit the image-remake reflections
Feel me as paper in the frame- might I be glossy as oil, will eyes slant along bends in light,
does the dull perfume of ink still linger? Hush -
is there a faint pushing of blood through painted veins?
I taste the sour stroke of an artist's mistake
Pointed footsteps echo insults, "Stupid Girl". Such prickly laughter slit
the base of stone statues.
I sense a million standing bodies
and a building desire to melt- hidden as one of the alluring ladies
amongst the crowd. I will chisel my features to charm the masses
The lashes that brim my sight mimic the bristles of a paintbrush-
yes I blink masterpieces!
Enchanted emotions engage everything
With the speech from a baton, the passion in symphonies will mesmerize
Dive from the stage, explorer- sometimes when we imitate we fly.
The image becomes me, I become the image.
Will the lens of film alter too?
Might the harsh flash of society disfigure itself yet again?
I stare at us all- each an individual glimpse of art

Hold me
like the branch holds the new snow fall
supported, content, each knowing the others role

No
not like a dying man holds a raft at sea
I am not your savior
I cannot resist the weight
I sink too

Hold me
like a mother who feels the weight of her baby's blue eyes
deep, connecting, gentle

No
not like an addict holds the needle
I am not your answers
I cannot control your shakes
I get lost too

Hold me
like a man so in love he will never let go
committed, strong, encouraging

No
not like a boy searching for a puppet to play with
I am not lifeless
I cannot be controlled
I lead too

I will

cut those strings and run
to watch the mother holding those baby blue eyes standing knee deep in snow while the man who holds her hand will never let go

I never knew tonight
Was the last cigarette in the pack
I never learned which way your hands went
and why
Or if your car would have made it to D.C
without dying
But I remember
How cold your hands were
And how it was raining
And how you looked like an actress
caught
in a
simulated
rainstorm
and the fan would blow your hair
and the water buckets poured
And Johnny offscreen
Banging aluminum sheets together for thunder
a cigarette hangs from his lips
a flashbulb for some lightning
Your umbrella opens up
beneath your make up running
My chest began to squeeze
Between your wet hair falling
I couldn't hold it back any longer

I love you

......and cut