The Deepest

she lacquered my dress with thick, golden paint.
shining, sparkling, golden paint.

i lacquered her face with powdered, white paint.
cracking, puffing, white paint.

his kitchen dropped off, a balcony,
stairs leading to places i wasn't allowed,
rooms in bright greens and mustard yellows.

you slept with me in an ampitheatre
dark as the midnight skies outside.

and then i awoke, a six am slumber
the dream dripping from my weak morning fingers,
like paint.