Paint

I’ve got my eyes wide open

I’ve got my hands wide open

I’ve got my mouth wide open

And I’m out catching the rain

It’s falling out of the Sky

Into me, my self, my

Hands, my mouth, washing my mind

as a shower of Heavenly

Dust-

Dusting off the dirt that is otherwise

Stuck as piles upon piles of thick clout cement.

Yet as it works away, I see there is too

Another way.

And here it erodes, softly scratching the surface

Of my being like sandpaper

Making way for another coat of

Paint-

Painting my mind in a colour I’d never seen

Before, because it fell out of the sky.

And I wondered if it was not meant to fall out

You see, it was a colour that was not of this world,

and just maybe Heaven had got it wrong.

I was sure, I was sure that it would have

No place here on earth, That it would tint itself

Three shades Darker with the black

That it found in that tiny alleyway

As it was too bubbly, and far too bright

for this small, somber, sincere world.

But I took it again, I held the paint and shook

The black from it’s colour and it fell out in particles just like dust

Falling out of the sky, like rain.

And I decided to keep it in my top drawer, just for a little

while

I decided where to put it.

But like the shadow of a lost boy, it persisted, to be

Free. So I let it out,

All over my room and it painted the walls

And the ceiling in gold dust.

And I lie awake at night imagining it

Falling into me, just as

It fell out of the sky.

And I face the ceiling

I’ve got my eyes wide open

I’ve got my hands wide open

I’ve got my mouth wide open

Breathing in the subtle fumes

That I imagine linger,

Thinking of ways to let the colour out

Of here, but until then

I soak it in.

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