A Child's Color

Your glinting brush ........Left ................Afterimages. Ribs of scarlet ........Strike fiery across ................My vision. Blurred by tears ........Your skin ................And the marks Make pink. A girl’s color, ........a child’s color; ................a child in a pink dress Wounded somehow. Rose petals plummet ........Small and unfluttering ................To the kitchen tiles. You are an artist ........With a ribbon always ................In your hair. Jehovah’s witnesses ........Visited my house this afternoon ................And I smiled at them warmly while They told me ........of Noah and forty days of rain, ................and that I could be doomed. I have a great fondness ........For all religions; ................If I am capable of that Should not all religions ........Follow me? ................And if me, then Why not you? We were initially in darkness ........But my hand was quickly at the switch ................With light comes color And in color, pain – a rose. Your painter’s palette ........Was bereft ................Of blues. To render violence only ........A flood ................Could match, There is alizarin alone. Crimson can be mistaken ........For ultramarine ................When it is dark. They are cold ........and warm ................colors by turn. I hear accordion music ........Played for this kitchen ................Full of beauty macabre. A child’s game ........Of pick-up-sticks ................Branded on A child. They are each atop and beneath ........And none real enough ................For purchase. How can I pick ........These painted red flowers ................From your memory? When I cannot reach ........Beyond your ................Skin? And what of Jehovah’s part ........In this tide that rises ................To threaten you with what you desire? Killing oneself is sin ........In many religions ................But Christianity is alone in worshipping History’s most famous suicide. As such do I liken you ........To Christ? ................In your blindness, Perhaps. We have no bond with flowers ........We have never spoken of roses ................Or lilies, But I know which of those ........You would be inclined ................To choose. It was more than ........A few minutes of night ................Which shielded you from me. My optimism ........Was quite enough ...............To hide spider silk scars. Your arm an accordion belly ........Folds drawn amongst freckles ................Bend as you toy with your brushes. Your knife-edged cleansing ........Would soil you ................For a religious man. I am not a religious man, ........Just as I am. ................Just as we all are, When faced with a rising ocean, ........A savior, ................A child.Written with distance. Lilies are symbolic of holiness, were often present in paintings of the Annunciation; the point where Mary was (informed of her incipient pregnancy/actually impregnated by the holy spirit). Thank you, Art History. A friend's penchant for self-destruction is a difficult thing to deal with. Pity is destructive, disinterest is too. I have found a precarious balance, but it will take years for this to finish, I am fairly certain. Written March 29th, 2002 © on Apr 11 2002 05:32 PM PST   0 • 10