Nothing is ever for sure. That much I do know.

Memories I have of you,

the thoughts

Number the

Blades

of Grass in this

Cemetary.

That of the Dead.

And yet,

Everything here

Blooms...

You are the ART. A Master piece.

The golden frame surrounds the masterpiece,
enticing each stroke.
The canvas boasts each color,
flashing serenity from all angles.
I want to dip my hand in that
river of color,
coast with my gliding brush
in every corner. And
paint on every surface
My name.