Reality—or painted air.
Every now and then you catch a drip running
down the wall.
"If you run fast enough you'll catch him!"
and they warn of wax wings though still try.
already caught him.
why you love me.
Exhaling reality as we speak
—swaddling you in yellows—
—caressing you in reds—
—and turning your tears from pale blue to indigo—
till we are soaked in color and
all that was
So far gone
you forgot it ever was.