ARTificial: The Dream

My fantasy was built instantly, Atop a stack of art books, Beside an empty canvas. It began with black paint— Filling a void I wasn’t aware existed, Followed by brushwork in royal blue, Sparks radiating through my hand. Then an outline in red— Flags, but I ignored them, And washed her image in soft violet, Projecting all I ever dreamed.

It wasn't fair. I built a pedestal for her to fall.

Instead, she flew away— Her wings too swift for the weight of my romance— A hummingbird with dragon scales, Inspiring every detail and line, Her presence etched into every sightline.

I was crafted to revere The curve of her divine spine, Bound by threads of denial. Her flaws, unseen—my own, ignored, We stood on cracking stone.

A foundation she and I could never hold Together very long. But what is a sanctuary? A place once sacred, now reduced to sticks and stones. Certainly, any structure can be repaired, But it’s the reverence that shattered, Leaving a pile of broken trust— Crushing my chest, no breath left to steal.

All a reflection of what I always longed for, Written in her holy book: Of lovers who were never enough.

This tragic ending was all about trust.

MATHESON 9-20-24