deepundergroundpoetry.com

Canvas

Soft brush strokes touch your lips
every word a colour
caressing those little bits
creating a soul
a whole

a panpsychism
free conscious
no objections

I the bristles bending with the curves
biting down at the turn
of the page
bookmarked the darkness bleeds
and I surface for another read
red looked up at green
back to blue
a sky of a different hue

a fresh river view
eyes stay the course
the cart driven by the horse

the breeze hardens the hairs
you soak them in your warmth

we return
always we return
to gaze at the moon
or is it the sun
perception
all a matter of trust
thrust in the throes
where lust is the precursor
to love
painted
outside the lines