Portraits

I was your canvas
On my body, you traced and drew some of the
finest portraits another had ever seen.
You took your paint and drew roses around my wrist
and falling stars among my hips.
My stomach became a cherry tree
and my back the elegance of a rainbow after a storm.
You drew clovers around my ankles
and the sun upon my chest.
I was your walking mural;
your greatest masterpiece.

But soon, the roses wilted
and the stars burned out.
The cherry tree rotted
and a giant cloud covered the rainbow.
The clovers fell apart
and rain hid the sun.

You walked away...
...and forget to take me with you.

I was your greatest mistake.