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I am paint
My colors are many, no limit in shade:
phlato, rose, mauve, sky, blood red,
sometimes gentle, sometimes violent,
and never always the same.
My destination is already saturated:
color filled, messy, splotchy,
some colors so mixed and
blurred that they’re black.
But my canvas will dry, and the
blue tears and
red rage and
sunshine warmth
will stay, staining it all
But that doesn’t mean that there’s not room
for more paint,
for more years,
and more colors atop it all.
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