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I paint you on the back of my eyelids.
Every night when I sleep in your memory.
Warm, the last time, held against me.

I paint you with my fingertips,
The artwork hotter on cold canvas,
Laughing, like you are every tomorrow.

I paint you with my empty arms,
Held tight against sheets cold from missing you.

I dream you back to endless sleep,
every time I wake without you.

I dream of every time you smile,
and your laughing eyes stare,
from every, ceiling, face, or faded picture.

I paint you with my heart,
on a paper-thin stain of tears.
And I caress your every color,
With my distant, deafened mind.

There’s only a single statement,
Meant to reasonably rhyme,
That you, my perfect, pristine, picture,
Are always, never, sometimes, mine.

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