I Used to Paint You

I used to paint you,
The coils of my brain leaving prominent strokes on the page.
The sunflowers reflected in your eyes,
The yellow petals intertwined with the sky.
Strong, intentional lines marked your features,
The certainty of your chin, the furrow of your brow. 

Now I paint you,
Scattered thin lines dance lazily across the canvas.
The lead of the pencil blotting the page,
Leaving a trail of smudgy gray.
The only colors I can create are the deep greens and browns
That have faded into the desert mountains. 

The images lift from the page,
Tornadoing through the twisted maze,
Causing my head to spin.
A top spun atop a sheet of ice.
It begins to topple and flatten
Until I realize it’s my eyes
Transfixed on the spinning disc. 

And it fades out…

Jessica Singelais