I show you outer layers;
peel back petals
of quivering pink-
abstract lingerings
of who I am

and who I used to be.

Stepping stones winding,
walking us through musing winds;
thoughts kissing words into stanzas

creating choruses
from waking chords.

I saw you in a painting, once;
watched you watching me
pulsate, revealing colors
from a bleeding brush

just enough red
to make me blush
through the tenderness
of your eyes

draping nights
around the silhouette
of us.



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