Exhaustive Concordance of Days
Chalk eaten paper, unrolled on my floor
Stiff shoe paperweights holding it still
I'm on my belly with green fingertips
painting the backdrop for the next scene in life.
There will be oceans, for who doesn't love oceans,
and there will be strings holding sun kites and breath
You will be there wearing velvet and honor
shooing the birds as they land on my shoulders
Then there's the moon which I've painted in fuchsia
It's a moon which decided to grow it's own heat
None of this waiting for sunshine and earth shift
This is the moon at the end of act three.
Then there is pain (for pain's always there)
but I've put it in bubbles way over our heads
You're hiding pins in the sleeves of your coat
but I've painted them sewed into fabric and red
Wishes are tangible here in my mind
so I've sketched them in scrollwork on the edge of the page
These are the moments we yearn to dip into
in dreams and in all waking solace
I could go on like a list of desires
but you really should just make your way to my house
Please do forgive my disheveled appearance
and kiss me on lips stained of verdant
This tapestry life is an eater of time
I'm full of paint scrapings and boldness (and rhyme)
I've set down indelible what I want to be
an exhaustive concordance of days.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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