canvas skin pt. II

i used to tell life
you are
MUCH TOO MUCH FOR ME
 
and now i find myself
begging for life to
 
LET ME BE ITS CANVAS.
 
inject your galaxies
into my veins,
s p l a t t e r your stars across
my arms, etch your
planets into my
soft, breathless skin.
 
i have caught myself
on my knees screaming
for life to
 
LET ME BE ITS CANVAS.
 
i have skin of canvas
stretched over bones of
heated steel:
 
i beg of you,
let me be your canvas.
 
i writhe with the
weight of your universe
drawn across my
midnight mind.
 
life gave me a body
to be painted;
life gave me artists
to decorate my edges.
 
life gave me you
and your deft
fingers connected to
gentle palms.
 
each sculpting touch
gives rise to rough
mountains and
receding valleys.
 
i - i am a canvas
to your broken sentences,
forgotten thoughts, and
deepest desires.
 
I AM A CANVAS TO
your rowdiest creations,
brightest dreams, and
joyful successes.
 
i long to be a canvas
of understanding,
of empathy.
 
i long to be a canvas
to you, to your every
second -
(so paint your life
across my
curious mind.)
 
i - i am a canvas,
for those who are made of ice
(they melt and sway and erase
all evidence of their pasts)
do not truly see life's
precious tattoos -
and we must recognize
the art of life's endless ink.

Comments

Joe Ubiles

This is a wonderful piece, it demonstrates the art of language and the language of art.

Joe Ubiles, powerwriters

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