Restless Canvas

Streaks of gold, sharp as breath, Slash the canvas—raw and sudden, Where air turns molten, alive and wild,
Like a whisper burning through silence.

Beneath, earth is smudged in ochre bruises,
The body pressed, its weight remembered.
Cracks snake through sienna plains,
Fractured, waiting—a shape in tension.

Water spills from the edges,
Thinned cobalt, soft and unruly.
It pools and spreads like love forgotten,
A cool ache melting into nothing.

The stars?
Smears of white, distant and restless,
Punched through the black with furious hands—
Blinding pinpricks that refuse to die.

And there, spirit sways—
A shadow layered in charcoal grays,
Breathing between the brushstrokes,
Haunting the space where words would fail.

It’s all here:
Breath and light, dust and love,
The body broken, the canvas whole—
An immortal thing, unfinished, alive.