Blackness turns the canvas white
Eyes create the brushstrokes’ dance
Painting me a memory of a time gone by
Unconscious creations illuminate my heart
Eyes are mere windows to my mind
Through the glass, I watch my mind take flight
Never minding my conscious perspective
My thoughts dance, high across the ceiling
The image dissolves with each new pass
Single lines leave blank spaces
Eager to put the pieces in place
But the visions left as quickly as they came
© Kyle Robinson 2011
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