Still Life
What if you painted the perfect artwork
Surrounded by the bones
of those who could not look away
Rigid contours of gouache causing
dips and meanders
flattered shadow
bathe in the mellow
Rhythms of reds and yellows
Splintered petro veins
Splayed skyward
Shaken by the shame of
hues embalmed
in blacks frame
Capturing the false
Miss the noise
Given choice
Turn away
Look through framed window
Beauty of the never still day
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