Painting

Painting your walls
I smelled the semisweet paint chip
and found I was missing.

What color am I? You say I'm
a mulberry sky.

I tell you,
sunflower works best
with wanderers - it brings out
the deeds in their eyes.

I thought I could
work your walls like clay,
try and sculpt out the freckles
because the sun hurts too much.

You're wrong - I'm not a sky.

I am a storm dancing in the deep
end of a tea cup.

I painted something else that day.
You against me.