i finally have something to say

but you say why
and list off twelve things of your nature
that maybe shouldn't be over looked

soft hair
clean eyes
a healthy smile
and fists like wet dog food

i say stop and you pause
lifting your heaven bound face
to the burnt umber and raw siepa shadows
i've been painting for half an hour now

cold lips
child voice
a barrel chest
waist size thighs

i slam my jar down
splashing the smell of turpentine to the floor
stabbing the portrait
of my face
lingering with your face
with now tiny tiny white marks
making you cross eyed
and distant

i say enough
you're not true
inhaling smoke
wrapping an arm around my discolored shoulders
fingering my hairline
and sleeping til noon

but you keep plodding

puppy sighs
baby face

you're imaginary now
weaving yourself in and out of my oils
streaking the background
and popping up like bright marks
on my dull spots

i grab my face
sniff down the choke
of my tear duct venting
and feel
softly
your last verdict

in love with you

and paint now
the everything
spotlighted into
your arteries
your valves
your t-cells
and come up with

your heart