She paints without fingers and eyes
while her stroke brushes close to her heart
her hair waves then drops and cries
on nights she picks out boxes
worn with
scratches to tease the matches
she keeps in her sleeve
all while waiting for her punishment
to feel like reprieve
so spherical in space
the earth shakes the bones
of all who are alone and scream
until the spinning stops for
her face to burst at the seams
only to be replaced with a face filled with fire
crowned with copper wire once
found in the basement of a shelter
where she thought she could
hide before the bombs and guns
gave her stumps and lumps for art making.
Oh painter come find my soul
seeded deep in the pit of a bowl
made of iron clad material wounds
where my brain grows feet and
meets my body down at the beach
daring to reach the wavy water
without skin
Only to dive in and sink
while you paint my drowning
with rain to make it whole again
I see you stand out
on the grains of sand
that become nothing
but specks of a man
when sifted through and through
Your empty eye sockets
bleeding black holes
into outer space
While i become erased
by the water’s fury