Monday, July 26, 2010

Chiaroscuro

Early morning
Our room inhales
In black and white
The pale sun
Apologetic
Pushing through
The zigzag
Of last night’s
Passion.
My fingers trace
Your charcoal lines
Gently watching
Light and shade
Glide through curves
I tuck the sheet around you
And think Yes
For this I became
A painter.

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