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My hands are stained
November 26, 2013
My nails are stained with charcoal dust,
From when I charcoaled a page.
Black was the page from crumbly flecks,
The flecks soon settled on me.
My palms are blurred with acrylic paint,
From my first acrylic portrait.
The portrait in hues of browns and greens,
The hues now mixed in me.
My fingers are smeared with tiny dots,
The dots from my gray gel pen.
The pen was writing some curious piece,
The piece that sprang to me.
© Anonymous
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