The path of a brushstroke

brush strokes of finding

Come paint me with your brush,
the brush of unfamiliarity.
Use the colours of confusion,
the strokes of misunderstanding
and the long lines of bemusement.
Let me be your masterpiece,
 of unknowing, of non-reality.
In your soft hands affair with the canvas,
I’ll comfort your need to find my humanity,
to justify your commitment to painting me.
-W.E.

I’m there, between the bristles, between those little spaces of air that hold their breath before the next stroke, I’m there. I’m where you steady your shaking hand to bow to the brush’s command, I am there, assisting you in assisting me, I’m always there. Paint on, keep painting, there’s work yet to be done. Colour me with the tones of your longing, with the thirst of my belonging, with heart palpitations and thronging, with all of your wronging, just paint me, with no warning.

-W.E.

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