It brings me to tears,
Watching you smile and
Dance around words
You believed
To be long forgotten truths.
I remember -
but I will not speak
Not a sound
Will come from me
For I live
In your painting.
I am but on-going art piece,
Layer upon layer
I await patiently.
The warm colors cool,
They sink and they seep.
The weather is perfect here,
But the brushes still sweep.
Unending, unfinished,
Imperfectly incomplete.
You place a dream on a canvas,
And then refuse
To join me.
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