“brush strokes”

even lines on blank canvas
she works her imagination
into masterpieces
I am enamored
with her even handed
slow motion

painting creation
her fine lines
circles & incongruous right angles
explosions of black girl magic
like a break beat and trumpet
mixed pastels and cheap vodka

we mix colors with cuddling & goodnight kisses

the champagne tastes like sin
but if God meant the sun to hug the sky
then he assuredly intended
that she dance reckless
in her birthday clothes
against my wanting glances

pray to be her next piece
or at least be pigments
on her easel
in my next life

an existential crisis of faith
in everything I know
everything I know questions these efforts
but you never really get the picture
till the artist is finished…


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