What if I painted, you, a mural of bone and flesh?
Separated the “you” factor
From the “us” faction,
Unknotted the tendons from
the frame and adhered them
to a concrete canvas in
the rain because you knew no
better?
Sins by inheritance, heirlooms
that I must ease off your mantle
as your hair is matted down in
the rain and soon shall those
elements breakdown a proteins
burn, their scent beaten down in the
rain.
Take a life, save a life. I’m
Painting an angel, an angel on
a concrete canvas, eliminating this
beautiful yet extraneous solution
now alone in the rain…