Oil Paint

The smell of oil paint
how it gets on you and doesn't get off
white sand rubbed between the palm of my hands
the sound of the ocean

blues whites greens yellows
fix the errors with the opposite color
the children see the greens and want less
she sees cobalt blue and wants more

I took the palette
and pressed it on the canvas
and made polka dots

And then I looked out to sea


....and removed me further from you by one more step, yet again....

oh well, my imagination is and has always been richer perhaps than yours, if that is possible.

/me frowns, but understands