An empty canvas...
I go on searching hues
To paint you bright;
My feet are turning blue.
Eyes slip into
The well of darkness
For many
Sleepless nights.
I want the morning sky
For you
And a long
Spring in sight.
Brush, I soak in
A pool of sweat,
In dreams, I
Hold you tight.
But you may not
Know them all,
As you cannot see;
An empty canvas
You may have,
Memories that of me.
