I am abstract for you.
I am abstract for the truth.
I paint in the base of black.
I paint in the world which surrounds.
I cannot see concrete landscapes.
The acrylic piled on top of wax and canvas hangs above you.
The scent of the tears dripping onto your lips is the scent of life’s brevity.
It is the scent of your knowledge.
It is the musky scent of a distant horizon emblazoned with your true wishes.

I look both ways.
I look to the East.
I look to the West.
I run my fingers across a landscape of loss and desire.
I feel your pores.
I feel your sores.
I devour your need for a love to know your core.

Tomorrow can shine, sweetheart.
Tomorrow can bring a mosaic of texture and the depth of abstract worlds your mind has to this point been unable or unwilling to inhale with verve and with intensity.
Run your fingers along the miles I write.
Slowly feel the mushrooms in the darkness, saturated in the manure which allows them to flourish.
They awake and grow amongst the pillars blessed by stability.

Feel the paint burrowing into my fingerprints that felt your skin.
Feel the heat of my heart pounding in the glue that holds the scent as i meticulously coat it with the whispers of  my pride and hubris I hold tightly in my hand.

One day... one day... my painting of that which infiltrates my desirous dreams will flood you with understanding and the gift of a love coated in colors and sparkles that I hold in the shower praying yesterday becomes a piece of art we share as we stroll past, hand in hand.   Misery for misery.  Triumph for triumph.  New breath for new glorious breath.

Its all in the painting for you.
It will always be in that acrylic scent.
Love our connection.
Live what i think of you because it is the art that will forever lift your beautiful, unique, singular  essence.