I know
we are not strangers.

Let go of the rotting surface.
Bad days happen.

No canvas stretched today
will be blank.

The colors are pulled
from our unconscious biases.

Straight strokes or curved.
The bite of linen’s tooth.

I know your face.
The freckled pattern of your cheeks.

You know my emotions
telegraphed from the corners of my eyes.

In the sway of our lingering
familiarity balances with contempt

as you and I reflect
on liberties and unmet expectations.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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