I enter your presence and lay down, one by one, all that keeps me here, all that keeps me from you, my thoughts, my worries, my plans, my hopes, my cross, myself. I stand in front of you, a blank canvas, and you begin to paint me. Swift colorful strokes. Colors you have been dying to use. Colors eyes can not even see. Colors you made just for me.
And you stand back, and you are pleased.
8/2013
Friday, August 23, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I love this image! I'm re-introducing myself to your journal. This is wonderful!
Post a Comment