It is pale pink
(a mixture of sanguine red,
blistering enough to
deaden the flesh to touch,
and the white petals of
Daisies, so close to human
Innocence)
Combined on my brush
with the evanescent tint of
Blue
so deep:
swallowing, choking
Asphyxiating.
The hue of my ardency
For You:
Pale Lavender.
I am a painter all the days
Of my Life,
My brush of experiences
Sweeping Across the Canvas
of the unforeseen.
Always the impression of
You remains:
The despondency of defeat
The fractions of utopia.