I Know You Are Lonely.

I know you are lonely.

And Hurt.

Your heart has been broken

And you stand in front of the dry leaves

And say you match them.

You don’t. 

You are the pink and the blue and the red

All living next to each other 

With no one dominant colour. 

You are what makes my pen move. 

You hug puppies 

The same way I wish I could write poetry.

You champion those without a voice.

You hide my face with your kindness.

I know you are lonely.

And hurt.

You are just like me.

I am the left foot of Philip Guston.

You are the right foot of Agnes Martin.

Your are Judy Chicago’s purple plate. 

Your thoughts wrap around words as tightly as Christo Jeanne-Claudes. 

Believe me, equilibrium doesn’t exist without the U-Turns.

So I celebrate you.

In Porcida. 

Under Branch Hill Pond.

In the Louvre

Drawing pictures of tourists.

Stripped bare with Giacobetti

And using the humble perspective of time

As an interior decorator that

Hangs all good things to come.

I know you are lonely.

And hurt. 

You are just like me.

But I also know you love dolphins 

And believe that every romance is an essential journey.

You pick Renoir’s flowers

And I know you would never, never, take any of the moments that hurt back. 

No matter how much you miss them,

You're still here.

So sleep with the ravens

Be lost in illumination 

Art is our Phenomenon

And remember it is falling down these disguised pits

That makes life

So

Damn 

Magnificent.

You uplift me.

You make me want to build a ship.

Sit on a long table with you and 

Eat Pancakes on your birthday.

Understand Italian Baroque more.

Walk down the catwalk with Kimono.

Go on a tree adventure with Hockney.

Let him whip me.

I know exactly what it is you make me want to be.

You make me want to be.

I know you are lonely.

And hurt.

You are just like me.