Paint Poem by Ishan Chaitanya

Paint



paint.
paint me as a waterfall,
feel me under your skin,
like a strange disease
you might like to have
to drive home a more timid man,
not a selfish carnivore,
as we can be creatures
so friendly, you and I.
do not forget, however,
to use a different paintbrush
for each limb,
and a different canvas
for each mood.
we can be subtle relishers
of a unique daylight,
or we can be skin-itching monsters
hunger-driven in the alleys of greed.
you can take up that brush now,
like a queen of touch,
and work your way again
through labyrinths of tangled mesh
of unyielding mind,
inch by inch.
i can feel the question
rising in your mind:
'Is my freedom threatened? '
but when has such play ever been
rendered safe by fear alone?
familiar fears call to memory
safer havens and shielding hearths,
but being one's own true self
is the sole privilege of those
who are masters of their own minds.
now finally fearing none of us is such,
we enter another self-deluding mansion
to rest our weary hearts
till more opportune days.
we do have the credit, though,
i hope you realize that,
of fair play that noone
can take away from us.

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