I search behind
Closed doors and
Bear rugs just to
Find a painting of
What seemed to be
My love life crumbling to bits.
Each brush stroke
Looks faded while the
Colors and silo wet
Are unrecognizable even
The signature at the
Bottom can’t be seen.
I cleaned off
The canvas so I
Could get a now
Perspective on what
Needed to be
Rearranged and perfected
Transformed and diluted
Destroyed and reconstructed into
Something more appealing
Than what it once was before.
A masterpiece.
