Painting Hearts

Missing red autumn leaves
pressed against my chest
like the hearts of broken loves
beautiful pieces of
somebody's soul
(not mine).

And as I trickle down the pathway
of smooth river rocks and
clear shadowed eyes,
watch me from every riverbed-
wish me a sleep the
dead would envy.

Watching me (watching you)
kiss my yellowed eyelids
as they flutter, indecisive
like your hands as they
move half a brushstroke (move me);
careful placement of colour.

And though I am the only colour
painted on the canvas of your mind
a bright neon, soft pastel-dare to use me
you hesitate (why?)-dare me to find myself
wishing to give me more power,
holding the edge on the tip of your tongue.

Wielding your brush like a sword
you slash my heart to shreds, and I
I am a willing accomplice in this
tearing into autumn, vivid reds
pressed against your chest,
(my soul).

5-28-04