Drip
Drip.
No water needed.
You cry in colour now.
Grief mixed with pigment—your palette was pain.

You are in the bathroom,
Fixing your hair the way you like it.

The steam from your shower
is setting into the bedroom now.
I can smell your shampoo.

The skylight casting an early summer glow
across the tiny water droplets speckling your skin
makes you look studded with rhinestone.

The subtle shifting of your weight
creates a curve in your side
and as you drop your hip and bend your knee,
I think for a moment,
that you look like art.

That moments like these are what inspire
The greatest artists in the world.

That I might be like them
if you were my subject,
But I am too busy loving you
To lift a paintbrush.

An artist cries the most tears,
For art is a painful thing.
I wither my fingers to bones,
Perfecting every line of poetry.

I want it all to be perfect,
So much it starts reflecting onto my life,
The way I walk, the way I talk, the way I care too much.

Yet I am not perfect,
I'm afraid I never will be,
All this trying,
Is killing me.

Oh how I dream of us.
I imagine you purely you,
Among your dreams
And among mine.
You, my muse.
Me, yours.
How artful would it be?

I picture you entirely,
Captured still in photos,
In paintings, in sculptures.
I, in your writing,
In fabric, in drawings.
You are my art,
I am yours.

what is our purpose, if not to help,
why do we say these things, when they're not felt,
so focused on our next big break,
we've forgotten everyone it takes.

not meant to sit alone, meant to stand & test,
for those who refuse, for those who can't,
our helping hands only help so much,
set up against social norms & Picassos,
left to bludgeon, burgeon & bargain,
still only to be second best,
what Einstein life is this,
not one we lose to win.

Golden sunlight drips
Kintsugi salve on the hills
Three trees remaining

Sunlight endows warmth
Golden strata breathe promise
Three trees remaining

The hills pray for aid
The sun renders grains of gold
Three trees remaining

And by remaining
Three trees swell with seeds of hope
Gold granulation