Gallery

With the stroke of your hand You splattered upon me The Jackson Pollock stains Of your sometimes love Abstract drips that dangle And disappear into the vanishing point Beyond the once blank canvas edge That cries out to be covered In colors so brightly bold With dizzying Dali madness You've made me a masterpiece Of mangled moments Pastel promises drying in the sun Only to change me into an oily smudge Pretty, if not perfectly positioned Under the gallery light of what you call yours And I am drawn in charcoal Dark and defined To stay in the sweet swirl Of your Monet mouth So pleasant the soft fields Blending into bent light shadows Where you can squeeze all my colors Liquidity, DeVinci divinity Til my Mona Lisa smile Is seen by only you And I hang in the gallery Of Your heart