For her ,
Love is soft pastel
layer upon layer
shifting, muting, smudging,
blending over time.
For her ,
tears are cold, clear turpentine ,
reeking with the smell of Change.
Erasing.
Cleansing.
The sketch is vibrant;
The painting is beautiful,
though neither is completed.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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