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Painting Blue
I bask in the paint. I pour it on myself: my head, legs, chest- even my heart. I am soaked with blue; it is a coat that covers me entirely. I pray that by painting myself this way -letting this color influence my art so greatly- it will wash me white somehow. Heavy tears will drip on the frigid floor, carrying the red in them. And once these tears are finished delivering the colors away, I will feel differently. I will be a clear canvas.
That is my golden hope.

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