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paint
August 23, 2010
Alone and tall
arms out stretched like a cross
an electrifying crucifixion.
It and I one,
connected through the black rope stretching from my window.
The delicate swoop,
like that of a paintbrush that you so contently hold in your hand.
We are your canvas,
the elements your paint.
Show me what life is,
paint me what love is.
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