Neon Artillery
Watercolor on Black Paper
2020, 6"x 8"
Red Ume
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Come, rest near
I am starved of touch
My longing to be near you burns through the mediocrity
My willing soul just wants to breathe the same air as you
If my hand could touch your clothing
If my eyes could meet your eyes of blaze for just one time
I would be satisfied
Or maybe I'm a foolish child with empty promises
I'd likely take your gaze, your touch, your voice, your presence, your kindness
Take it for granted
And be on my knees
Bloody and broken
Please, please
I long for you
I long for you
I've already forgotten that I've had you
You kissed my forehead one night when I wasn't paying you any attention
And yet I sit on the floor and my eyes are red
I say, "Why don't you kiss me?"
And you kiss me again
But I slumber
I laugh at the thought of your nearness
Reality is a foreigner
I am your scarlet letter
My hands and feet are dipped in blood
You washed me up in the kitchen sink
and you wore my blood stains like badges of honor
Your eyes were fire on me as I complained about your distance
You stood back and crossed your arms
You smiled still
I wondered why you left
I merely needed to turn around!
Not even much effort
I could have seen you
But I crawled into bed and I missed your arms wrapped around me
I imagined a different man and I wept in jealousy as I saw another love you
Today I stood in a crowded room and my eyes dripped of acid
You came and sat with me and my mind told me you were missing
You touched me
I flinched
Twisted that silver on my ring finger
I could light candles
Set the mood
Stir up the atmosphere until my posture is right
I could invite you to come and I'd wait on the front porch for you to pull up
All along you sit beside me begging me to look at you
"Love, I'm holding your hand"
He's not coming
"Love, open your eyes"
He's never coming
"Love, love, love"
I step away from the porch and my bare feet tiptoe over dirt still muddied
I sink until my legs are dark and dripping
he doesn't love me
His heart breaks yet again
I bury my face in the dirt and I say it again
Come, rest near
I am starved of touch
J.N.
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Hawaiian Fire Breathers
Watercolor, Gouache and Ink on Cotton Paper
2019, 5"x 7"
Red Hibiscuses
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Wild Roses, 1890, Vincent van Gogh
Medium: oil,canvas
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