Painted Peace

Painted Peace

If I could open my chest
—a zipper would work,
snaps, perhaps a button or two—
I’d access my heart each day
and add a fresh coat of peace.

I’d keep it in a can
on a shelf in my studio.
It would be nestled
between the soft gel medium
and the Mirage Blue spray paint.

Of course, I’d use a natural bristle brush:
squirrel, perhaps.
Expensive, yes, but my heart is worth it.
A gentle shake or two would be enough
to mix the creamy, shimmering liquid
and release the scent
of vanilla or violet or Autumn Damask Rose.

Removal of the heart would be the next step.
I’d do it carefully,
turning it over gently in my hands,
inspecting it,
taking note of how well yesterday’s
coat of peace held up.

Then I’d apply a new layer,
ensuring complete coverage
and exhaling a word of gratitude
for its quick-drying formula.
Replacing my heart in my chest,
I’d zip up and breeze through my day.



I Used Ink

Penciling me in,
You planned your day around me.
I used ink for you.

You Can’t Take This Away

My Word Generator

The words I put down on paper are mine:
the envelope was addressed to me, and
I bought the pen with my own allowance.