Can this haunt me till the end please,
dancing in my memory like a swirling pool of colors
as the PAIN drips into the tub,
the painting sapping wet and ruined anew,
each color running over the other,
the plug has been pulled,
the water rushes through the drain carrying every brush-stroke with it,
it\'s becoming one color as it begins to explore whatever\'s on the other side of the drain...
it\'s unprotected,
no longer projected... objectified never again,
it\'s destruction is it\'s only freedom...
can this be that beautiful haunting,
is it the anxiety I crave...
I\'m curious... I\'m brave, I\'m about to dive...
I\'ve waited too long, contemplated too much,
it\'s but a streak of marbled color in the base of the tub,
only a memory of what once rushed to the drain is now all but still...
she screams; why\'d you ruin my painting,
I reply why won\'t you ruin mine...
she\'s curious...
it\'s time for work,
we\'re covered in what was once each others pallets...
the bathroom now smells of paint...
paint, steam, and sex!
Our boss is calling, but our bliss has already called...
we now know we\'re passing through the drain...
we\'re at work,
we\'re both 20 minuets late,
she passes me a knowing glance...
my coworkers pretend not to know something,
but they could never know,
for a moment in time we were drops of watery paint rushing through the drain...
I can still taste acrylic, her salty skin, it reminds me of the feel of Play-Doh in my mouth...
I speak to him, “nothing happened, I don\'t dip my pen in company ink...”
he\'s curious
because he knows I\'m lying.
I can\'t care,
my brain is now exploring the other side of the drain,
and I\'m too...
curious.