nada de nada

In my room painting the walls, finally gonna finish. No music or tv in the background just the sound of my fur babies making funny noises in their sleep. I don’t dare to talk, the brush sh-sh-sh-sh keeps telling me to be quiet. Shhhh, up my wall and shhhhhh down my wall covering my trim in gold, very golden like crown royal, and a blue fit for royalty. I don’t want to feel like a King nor a Queen just royal. Shhhh, my brush whispers secretes that remind me of you, how you throw yourself into your work. How you threw yourself into that last work, poured the last drop of energy depleted and sick, how this made me want to throw myself into your work roll around in it, wade in the colors, touch every spot where your hands have been. Your hands how much they turn me on. Your hands so caring to the canvas, delicate they are they way they invade each blank spot with life. Spread that angel wings dust echa mis fantasias a volar. Spread those fingers, reach wide, gather the paint then squeeze till it oozes, like ecstasy though my legs.