galleries of us

we bleed onto devastatingly blank canvases,

we fill them up with the shades of us,

blooming colors like blooming tea,

a different note every minute that goes by,

the undertones of you and i

are a melody of iridescence

and a kaleidoscope of prisms.

we paint each other with every touch we spare and every word we spill,

we are artists...

and our medium is care.

uniquely loving,

the colors we share

are a mosaic of the people we gave our hearts to,

molded into shape by the way they chose to revere or to refine.

call my hands yours and call your hands mine,

we splash pigment on pigment,

clashing and colliding to create one-of-a-kind works of art.

we are made of strokes and splatter,

scribbles and shapes,

palettes of neon and pastel embellished on our flesh and bones.

galleries of us are filled with masterpieces of color.