Sometimes the vast window opens
Fractured
But forgiving

Knowing everyone else does it too
Empathy for the shared shadow of all else who
Desperately fell

There is a dusty harmony
A musty and dark air
Tainted with the protruding strength of her infinite suns

And they all can hardly breathe
As her flowers suffocate them
Because they were trying for her
Not them.

She wondered whether the beginning was all a trap,
Covered in the illusion that true light was outlandish,
Leaving her in the dark.

Dream your life in watercolours,
Live your life in oils,
Frame your canvases with time and distance;

Hang each by a silver thread,
In a windowed gallery of memories,
Exhibit often and without discrimination;

Celebrate the beauty in your clumsiest brushwork,
Accept the imperfections in your mastery,
Reshape your truths, as light plays and colour transforms.

The gallery is closing soon,
hurry up,
don't say you will come
another time.

I bet you want to see "Sunflowers".
You say you can wait.

You can? Okay, but
what if they can't?

What a sound mind that lies on his own
On hand
On top of shyness
Is this a primitive method or just a political issue?
Welcome to my prison gallery...

I burned our
old photographs,
it fell down
like dried leaves
in the autumn
The classic
gallery of our
love that was
once fascinating
became a
tedious one
The once white
walls and
clean corners
Are now dusty
and dark
The perfectly
carved frames,
and perfect
shots
became dull
and lifeless
You left me
knowing that
I won't survive
alone inside this
***** walls
Picture me
in your mind
And you'll see
the saddest photo
there will ever be