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Messy painter

I am a messy painter,

it comes from the way

these brushes are clutched

between my fingers,

creating a long fan

in each hand.

 

Each brush a different shade,

sliding paint around my world

without precision

but dripping love,

profusion of colour.

 

And rainbows may be cliché,

artistically lacking,

but each brush carries tenderness;

my committed flailing

trails this beauty.

Published inPoems