colourblindness
your naked model
I never had that pause that you held on for on my lips
so much asylum searched, sought after in the name of right or wrong,
mentally rescued from the north where the winds of indifference never blow,
I beat myself up, I tried to paint you and you let me down,
I’ve overstepped the mark so frequently it was endearing
my name was changed and placed on your deeds to your recline,
an invisible ink that swiftly altered to a thick molasses and dripped away
all this sweetness makes my teeth ache but feel so holy, kinder,
one more chop at this merry-go-round of static art
take out its fuse as this fare isn’t fair, naked and soulful,
do you dream of true and honest freedom, can you see I’m not cold
no, I dream of colours....though I don’t understand what they are,
I will sit a chair while you sketch me in charcoal
shape me like unclothed clay in the caress of your gentle fingers,
I wont spare your blushes if you don’t spare mine
we’re are both colourblind, we are inside out,
