© Oct. 1, 2019. All Rights Reserved.
With a broken, black compass,
I’m painting in the desert
With mirages for brushstrokes,
Like a million inside jokes.
The sandstorms cause a rumpus.
Winds cause my eyes to avert.
If I’m lost by tomorrow,
I’ll paint on a guanaco.
I’m a starving artist here.
My poor heart can disappear.
What is this and who am I?
This could be a masterpiece.
I’m a pretentious lover,
Undeserving of my dreams.
Cactuses cry like mother
Till my wrist sees color schemes.
Replace curse with cures, brother.
Sister, ignore the sunbeams
While I feel wholly for you.
Miss me missing like a taboo.
Don’t look at me while I paint.
If I love, oh, may I faint?
Isaiah Lawrence 