Sometimes I remember the smell of oil paints

and see their contents arranged

with graded borders

the mixed and shaded hues of context

blurred boundaries and

I love the way you add light to

your own eye’s favorites.

There’s a slap of paint

hard across the canvas, difficult;

hard to tell when to stop calling it blue and

begin calling it purple…

that’s black,

at least I thought so,

but you are so adept at convincing me

of red.