When there’s

a full moon,

I turn into

a prism,

new pictures

and colors

flow

through me,

and someone

always, always

pushes me

over

and I break.

When the full moon

fades

I am resurrected

into a

paint brush

again

 

II

 

I find love

when there’s a

full moon

the songs

that I hear

are colors of the

world,

  floating,

and I paint

love stories

out of the colors

my demons

give me.

 

 

 

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