The Wall
Posted by Garrett Carey | Filed under Announcements
We were like colors
quickened from the palettes
of dreamers unfamiliar
in their own skin. We
grafted to flax and gave
back what we got
in shifted spectrums,
narrower, not
so final. I tasted
sunlight on your back
and knew nothing of who I was.
Looking back, I think
maybe I was as you drew me
all bundled up and still far
too big for my own skin,
bone softened with milky watercolor
and too well contained
on canvas to jut out
at uncomfortable angles, and maybe
you were just something
I dreamed about and tried childishly
to stick to the wall.
I too liked the flavor of black
paint. I spoke in the industry
of romance, smearing
sadness where I settled
to collect and whisper warnings
from crude, iridescent
puddles. We were artists
only in the sense that we knew
what the aftertaste of heaven
felt like on our tongues.
We were geniuses
counting on inadequate
tools, trying to cheat the science
of happiness,
painting our utopias
with colors that were never meant
to be pretty.
