Every painting starts with a white canvas
Threaded blank pages layed out and begging for color
A tool dipped in dark blue
Brushing on a dark sky, yellow making stars
Swirling constellations into words for astronomers to write about one day
Adding in flaming orange to represent the sunset that has now faded
But never washing the brush clean and they call it fresh
There are some paintings that never are seen
Imagine the most beautiful piece of art
And realize that there may be one out there you have yet to discover
Think of your love life this way, as I have been trying to do
Though you have seen the outline of their body
And the way their hair burns in the sunlight that leaks through the window, open blinds letting in flaming gold
It reminds you of their hands
How they drip chrome raindrops all over the canvas of your body
You will feel beautiful and as if no one has ever truly been such an immaculate artists in sketching escape plans on your back that you thought were future paths you two would walk together
Realize that there are other artists out there
You have not seen the most beautiful piece of yourself yet
Because a true artist never hides his work
Every painting starts as a white canvas
So wipe yourself clean
And wait for someone who does not use old brushes on new paintings